When They Come For You
by SandyRook77
Summary: Clarke Griffin thought she knew her family, but the death of their patriarch and the return of her older sister, Quinn, shows Clarke how little she actually knows. Jake's death wasn't an accident and the Delinquents are more than they appear. Skaikru and Trikru are crime syndicates. Quinn Griffin has more than one secret up her sleeve. Who is Lexa Woods?
1. Chapter 1

I had just closed my eyes when a rough baritone broke my attempt to finally getting a night's rest, "Yo, HQ. Boss wants to see you."

I opened my eyes, already glaring at the man who dared to disturb me. I sat up slowly and took a few deep breaths before I murdered my squad member. He wisely ducked his head in shame but stood his ground.

"Why the fuck does he want to see me," I demanded as I started pulling on my clothes.

"Dunno, but you know it's gotta be for a good reason," he answered the floor.

"Fuckin' hell, Jack," I sighed. "Doesn't he know that I just got back."

Jack nodded, "He knows but says it's important."

"Fuck," I growled as I slid my dagger in its sheath behind my back. "The fuckin' world better be endin' or I'm gonna eviscerate someone."

He looked up startled and backed out of the door, holding his hands up in surrender, "Hey, I'm just the messenger."

I rolled my eyes as I stomped past him, "I know. I know. You're safe from my wrath."

He turned to follow me, "Thanks, HQ."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just do me a favor and make sure the pups are taken care of."

"Yep, not a problem," he replied and with a parting salute headed to the cages.

Our little unit had four locally bred wolves. It was unusual to say the least, but we were an unusual group. Technically, we didn't exist. Each of us were assigned to different units deployed in Europe and the Middle East and crossed through several different branches of the military. We were the stuff of nightmares. Called Shadow Demons by our enemies. We were the deadliest and most highly trained in the military. Special Forces had nothing on us. We were the ones called when they couldn't be used and only a select few knew who we were.

We all took our code names from the deck of playing cards. Face cards and the suits, twenty in total. Our group was led by the Spade King, the person I was heading towards. Me? I was known as Harlequin (Joker), or HQ after the DC comic book character. It worked because my given name was Quinn, but no one in the unit knew that. Well, except for the Spade King.

I came to their office door, the walk having sufficiently cooled my temper, and knocked.

"Enter," a voice called from within.

Without hesitation, I entered and came to stand in front of their desk, "You wanted to see me, King?"

"Have a seat, Quinn," he said, tilting his head to indicate the seat in front of me.

I scowled slightly because he never called me by my given name. Alarms blared in my head as I took the seat.

"I'm just gonna cut to the chase," he said as he looked at the screen of his laptop. "Your CO in Rota got a Red Cross message that was forwarded to me."

"King," I questioned as horrible images crossed my mind.

"It's your father," he said looking at me. "He died two nights ago and your mother wants you home."

"How," I asked, slamming backwards in horror.

"The message doesn't say, but I looked into it because I know you. There was an explosion in his lab. The roof collapsed as he was getting out some of his co-workers. He was able to save them, but he couldn't make it out. They're still investigating the cause of the explosion, but the preliminary reports I've seen," here he paused and looked at me intently, "it doesn't look accidental."

I felt ire beginning to burn deep within my chest, "Are you saying that someone…that there was a reason behind the explosion?"

He slid a folder closer to me and taking it, I began to flip through the pages. It was the preliminary reports that the Arcadia Fire Department had begun submitting. Also, the reports of the Department of Defense (DOD), who was also investigating the explosion.

I looked up at him, "What the hell was he working on?"

King shook his head, "I don't know. I am truly sorry, Quinn."

"Thank you, King," I said, closing the folder and looking at him. "So, am I going home?"

"Yes. I've already made arrangements to get you to the closest airstrip. There's an Apache that needs to go to Rota. You'll take it and then jump on a military cargo plane heading back to the States," he told me as he handed over another folder.

This one had my flight itinerary and tickets for a commercial flight that'll take me to the closest national airport to home.

"First class," I asked, looking up at him in surprise.

"You deserve it since you'll have to put up with the cargo plane," he said giving me a small smile.

"Thank you, King. How long before I have to report back?"

"You're on indefinite leave, Quinn. I have a feeling that your family is going to be needing you on this one."

"King, what else do you know," I asked looking at him more closely.

He sighed and looked at me plainly, "I know who you are, Quinn. I know who your family is and their connection to _Skaikru_."

"If you know that," I countered warily, "why am I allowed to be here?"

"You are one of the best operatives this program has pushed out since its inception. There has only been two other operatives that are as good as you. One of them was the founder of our program. The other…"

"I understand that, King, but does that have any bearing on why I've been allowed to continue?"

"You're here because you deserve to be here. Plain and simple. I may be head boss, but those people out there would follow you to hell and back if you asked them to. And on that note, if you need them, I can give you Spade."

"As long as you include Bruja and Alma," I told him since those were my two favorite wolves.

He nodded, "Of course. Give me a call if you need them."

"Thank you, King," I said, standing up. "For everything."

"You're going to be hard to replace," he said, standing up as well. "No one here can do what you have."

"Of course not," I replied with a smirk. "I'll call if I need anything."

"Make sure you do and good luck, Quinn."

"Yes, Sir," I said and with a nod was out the door and headed back to my quarters.

When I entered my quarters, I found Spade sitting on my cot looking cozy. The raven-haired Latina was the only other person who knew who I was, but then again, she was practically family.

"What're you doin' here, Spade," I asked as I pulled my rucksack out and started folding my clothes.

"Oh, you know me, HQ," she said with a smirk. "I've got my hands in a lot of different things."

I paused and looked at her, sighing, "You know."

"Yeah. So, what's the game plan?"

"Go home, help my mom and sisters, come back."

"You're not coming back."

I raised a brow at her in question, "I'm not?"

She shook her head, "Nope. You're gonna go after whoever did this."

"I'm not. I'm gonna let them do their investigation and leave it at that."

"And what if they blame your pops?"

"Then my game plan will change. I'm not gonna run into this half-cocked, Spade. There's too much at stake."

"Damn right you're not," she said, sitting up straight. "You're gonna need me. I'm coming with you."

"Not right now, you're not. King's already cleared you, but only if I need you," I said giving her a stern look.

"Oh," she said, sitting back on her arms. "Okay."

"Yep," I said popping the 'p,' "but I do need something from you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I said nodding. "I need you to get my weapons cache home for me. Without customs blowing a gasket."

"Well, you do have an impressive array of blades. Most of them are not legal in the States."

I snorted, "I know that. Can you get them there or not?"

"Yeah, yeah. No prob."

"Good. And make sure that Bruja and Alma have the right papers too. If you're coming, they are too."

She made a face of disgust, "You mean I gotta travel with those pups. They smell, HQ."

Laughing, "Well, give them a bath."

"That's kinda pointless out here," she argued.

"It is, just…look, I'll give you a call as soon as I know something or need to know something, okay," I said giving her a soft look.

She nodded and stood up, "Promise?"

"Promise."

She nodded and gave me a hug, "Stay safe and may we meet again."

I returned the hug, "You too."

She let me go and without a backward glance, I headed out of my quarters and to the motor pool. I had been 127 days into my fourth six-month deployment and before the moon had set, I was on my way home.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been four days since the lab explosion at Arkadia Industries. Four days since my father died. Four days since my mother had hidden herself in their bedroom, inconsolable. Four days since I dropped everything and raced home to be there for her and my baby sister, Charlie. Luckily, the hospital where I was completing my residency had been completely understanding and given me a leave of absence, reminding me that family came first. Unluckily, I felt out of my depth and lost. I needed my father to help me get through this.

Right now, the house was full of my friends, better known as the Delinquents. Monty and Jasper. Harper and Monroe. Miller and Jackson. Bellamy and Murphy. These were my try and true. My ride or die. Since graduating high school, we had each gone our own way. Finding our own paths, but they were here and I couldn't have been more grateful. Except that we were missing three. My oldest sister, Quinn. Bellamy's little sister, Octavia. And lastly, Raven Reyes. All had joined the military and all were overseas on deployment.

Mom had been able to send out a Red Cross message to Quinn's unit in Rota, but we hadn't received word on whether she'd be able to make it back in time for Dad's funeral. Even though my dad had been like a father to the Blake siblings and Raven, we couldn't ask to have them sent home. So, our Delinquent family was missing some members and it didn't feel complete without them.

I was in the study going over the paperwork the hospital had given us to get started on arrangements, but I couldn't find the energy to focus on it. I was on the edge of breaking down but couldn't let myself. Not when Mom couldn't get herself together and someone still had to look out after Charlie.

"She'll be here, you know," Bellamy's voice broke through my tumultuous thoughts.

I looked at him startled to find him standing in the doorway. It took me a moment to register who he was talking about and then I nodded, "I know."

He sighed and came into the room to sit on the chair opposite me with the desk between us, "She's stationed in Rota. There're flights in and out of there all the time, Clarke. She'll be here."

I nodded and sighed, "Logically, I know that, but why hasn't she called or emailed or something? We should have heard something by now."

"She's probably only thinking about getting here as quickly as she can," he told her. "Last thing on her mind is probably picking up a phone. I mean, I haven't heard from O and she's in Germany. And Raven's in the middle of the Mediterranean somewhere. We haven't heard from her in a couple of months. You gotta face it, those three are terrible at keeping in contact with the rest of us."

I snorted in agreement, "Yeah, you're right. They're horrible at calling us. I haven't talked to Quinn in a month. I mean, how busy can a helicopter technician be?"

"I don't know," he said sympathetically. "But we're all here to help you. Whatever you need."

"I know and trust me, I appreciate it," she said, leaning back in the chair. "It's just so overwhelming right now. It still feels surreal. Like, I still expect for him to just walk in through the front door laughing and joking."

"I feel ya," he told her and would have said more but the roar of a motorcycle drew his attention. "What the?"

They both got up and walked over to the window that overlooked the front yard. They watched silently as the bike drew closer and Clarke felt a jolt of recognition. Feeling relief, she left the study and was soon outside, walking quickly down the walkway to meet the rider. Bellamy and the others joined her outside, curious as to who it could be.

As soon as the engine cut off, I was within inches of jumping onto the person. The person got off and took off her helmet and I was met with a very tanned and white blonde version of Quinn. Seeing me, she drew me into a hug and I felt like a weight had lifted off my shoulders.

"You made it," I whispered into her chest.

"Of course, C," she said into my hair. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

I felt tears fall and just squeezed her tighter, "I didn't know what to think."

"Well, I'm here now."

"Quinn," a young teen squealed and I felt an impact as Charlie rushed to hug the both of them.

"Hey, Charlie," Quinn said. "God, you've gotten big."

"Shut up," she cried. "Mom's gonna be so happy to see you."

She let me go reluctantly and looked at me with worry, "How is she?"

I sighed, "Not good, Quinn. She's been locked in her room since it happened."

"Has she eaten, at least," she asked.

"Yeah," Charlie answered her. "Not much, but she's not starving herself."

"That's good," she said and turned to her bike. "Let me get my stuff inside and we can talk a bit."

"Hey, I can take that," Bellamy said as he walked up. "Welcome home, by the way."

I watch as Quinn smiles at him warmly, "Thanks, Bell. It's good to see you. How's your sister?"

"She's in Germany right now," he said, grunting under the weight of her bag. "Jesus, what do you have in here?"

Quinn laughed and took the bag from him, hefting it over her shoulder like it weighed nothing, "You need to work out more, Bell. This is nothing. So, what's she doing in Germany?"

We started walking back inside as Bellamy answered, "Training, I think? She's been radio silent for a bit now. Mom's worried, of course, but I keep telling her that no news is good news. Or at least, that's what I'm trying to believe myself."

"Army, right?"

He nodded, "Yeah, she joined the police or something."

"That's right up her alley," she said nodding.

"So, how long are you here for," Charlie asked as they walked into the house.

"As long as you need me, squirt," she answered, ruffling her hair.

"Serious?!"

"Yes."

"But it's not indefinite," I said, frowning slightly.

Returning the frown, "No, I'm afraid not. I still got two years before my enlistment's up, Clarke. Unless there's something extenuating, I have to go back."

I nodded not liking that she'd have to leave again. Ever since she enlisted years ago, we hardly saw one another and I missed her. Intent on changing the subject, I said, "They converted your room into a workout room."

Quinn shrugged, "That's okay. I can crash on the couch or get a hotel room later."

"Oh no you don't," Charlie lamented. "I haven't seen you in months and there's no way that you're gonna be at a hotel."

"Alright, alright," she acquiesced. "No hotel rooms."

Charlie smirked at her and dragged her into the living room where everyone else had gathered. Quinn dropped her bag right inside the room and everyone came forward to welcome her back. It brought a smile to my face seeing it. Hell, even broody Murphy cracked a smile as he voluntarily hugged her. But then memories of why she was back came crashing in and suddenly the world was too small. I quickly headed to the study. It had become a haven of sorts whenever I needed a moment to gather myself.

I was staring down at the desk when I felt strong arms and the scent of sweat and something sweet enveloped me. Knowing that it could only be Quinn, I turned around in her arms and found myself finally able to let go. She didn't say anything. Just held me until I felt the tears and ache in my chest ease.

"Feel better, C," she asked softly when I could find the strength to stand up again.

"A bit," I replied honestly. "Thank you."

She grunted and maneuvered us until she was leaning against the desk, "You don't have to thank me, sis. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. It took a couple of days to make arrangements, but I got here as fast as I could."

"You could have called," I mumbled as I began toying with her uniform collar.

She chuckled, "I should have, but the truth is that I wasn't in Rota at the time."

I looked up at her questioningly, "Where were you?"

"I had been sent to some middle of nowhere airstrip in the Middle East to retrieve an Apache," she explained. "Had to fix it up before flying it back to Rota. I've gotten stuck doing that a lot." She shrugged, "My CO loves to send me on missions like that. He's either hoping that I'll get taken out or he's finally realized that I'm just that damn good of a tech and pilot."

I chuckled, "It's probably the former. You're not that good at your job."

She laughed, "Oh ho, someone's got jokes now."

"No," I replied shaking my head and stepping back. "You've just got an inflated sense of self."

She scoffed, "As if. I'm not the one who decided to dedicate the entirety of their twenties in going to school. You're in your prime dating life and you're wasting it with dusty tomes and little old librarians."

"Hey, those dusty tomes are now on digital and I haven't stepped foot in a library in almost two years. I've just….you know, been living in a hospital since then," I started out strong but ended in a mumble. "Christ, I need to get out more."

She laughed loudly and shook her head, "Uh huh. So, I'm gonna turn serious now, okay? What still needs to be done?"

"Everything," I told her as the feeling of being overwhelmed started up again.

"Hey, hey, none of that, kiddo," she said as she took me by the shoulders. "We take it one step at a time. First, we need to know if Dad wanted to be cremated or buried. Do you know?"

I shook my head, "I don't even know where to look for that. Where would I look?"

She sighed, "Okay, let me go talk to Mom. See if I can't get anything out of her. Could you do me a huge, _huge_ favor and order me a couple of pies from _Gino's_? I have seriously been craving their pizza for months it seems."

I laughed, "Yeah, I can do that. Just be careful when you talk to Mom. She…it's like she's not even here, you know? I can never tell what's gonna set her off."

She nodded seriously, "Yeah, I get it. Trust me. I'll take care of it."

I nodded and she headed out of the study and I listened as her steps faded up the stairs. I sighed heavily and then walked back out into the living room. I let them know that I was ordering and they got excited at the prospect of pizza. After placing the order, I slumped down on the couch and prayed that everything would work out. Especially, now that Quinn was home for the foreseeable future.


	3. Chapter 3

Climbing the stairs felt like I was traveling back in time. The staircase was littered with pictures of the three of us at different stages of our lives. Some singular, like Clarke's fifth grade attempt at cheerleading or Charlie's third grade karate pictures. Others were like the time they had gone to Disney World and Mom was barely showing that she was pregnant with Charlie. Past vacations and other momentous occasions lined the wall that led up to the second floor. She smiled bittersweetly at the memories that seemed to end just last year around Christmas. The last time they had been together as a family.

She shook away the ache that they'd never be like that again. It was too soon, I thought as I walked down the hallway that led eventually to my parent's bedroom. Stopping in front of the door, I felt the weight of the knowledge that Dad's death hadn't been an accident. Someone had purposely exploded his lab. I just wish I knew why. Hopefully, it had something to do with the project and not because of anything else, but I had a feeling truths were about to be revealed. Hard truths.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door. Listening, I thought I heard a few sniffles but no answer. Sighing, I opened the door and entered the room. It was dark, draped in shadows. The blackout curtains pulled tightly were working a little too well. I paused letting my eyes adjust as the light from the hallway illuminated a lump on the bed. Taking another breath, I stepped further into the room and felt the sorrow emanating from the lump that was my mother.

Closing the door, I waited until my eyes adjusted again before walking further until I sat beside the lump. "Hey, Mom," I said softly.

"Quinn," her voice tired and scratchy came from underneath the comforter. She sounded unsure and unbelieving.

"Yeah, it's me," I said as I laid a hand on the lump. "I just got in."

"Baby," she questioned as she sniffled and extracted her from the depths of the bed.

"Yeah, Mom," I said, smiling sadly.

"You're here," she said, peering at me closely.

I nodded and swallowed the tears I felt creeping up as I began to allow myself to feel my grief, "Yeah. I'm here."

She launched herself at me and I hugged her tightly as her body began to shake and I felt her tears begin to soak my shirt.

"I'm here," I whispered as I held onto her. "I'm here."

"My baby's here," she cried between her tears.

I felt a few tears fall down my face and for once, I let them. I didn't need to be strong right this moment. I could just be a daughter who just lost her father. We sat there for a long while until I felt her tears ease and I was more in control of myself.

I scooted a little more comfortably on the bed and prepared myself, "Mom, we need to talk. I know you don't want to, but there are things that need to be done."

She nodded against my chest, "I know. I know. Can we just pretend that he's on a business trip?"

"I would love to, Mom," I told her sincerely, "but we can't. It's been four days. And Mom, I know."

"You know," she asked, looking at me.

I nodded, "I know it wasn't an accident, Mom."

This almost started the waterworks again, but I wasn't going to let her fall into that pit again, "Mom, that's enough. I know you don't want to face it, but you need to. _We_ need to."

"Not Clarke. Not Charlie," she said, shaking her head. "They don't need to know."

"Mom, we can't keep this from them. They deserve to know the truth. Or as much as we can tell them. Mom, I need to know what Dad was working on. The DOD is investigating the explosion."

She sat back in surprise so I took the opportunity to turn on the bedside lamp. She flinched and hid her head from the invading light. My heart wrenched seeing her normally put together appearance devolve into this disheveled and bedraggled woman in front of me.

When she could see without squinting, she turned her gaze on me and I looked at her unflinchingly as she asked, "How do you know that?"

I sighed, "Mom, seriously? I have my own connections that don't have anything to do with the business. But regardless, I know Arkadia Industries has a multitude of military contracts. So, their involvement isn't surprising. Is anything gonna come back and bite us in the ass, Mom?"

"I…I don't know," she said refusing to look me in the eye.

"Mom," I all but growled. "Don't hide from me. What do you know?"

She looked up at me, glaring defensively, "I don't know anything, Quinn. Your dad didn't talk about his work often. Not since you and Raven left."

I huffed in annoyance, picking up edges of guilt coming from her. Unfortunately, I couldn't say anything without something to back me up. If I did, she'd just shut herself up behind a wall. I knew her too well, "Alright. We'll just wait for their investigations to be over, but we need to prepare for any kind of fallout. Including, him being blamed for what happened. Can you agree with that?"

She nodded, "I don't want to, but what choice do I have."

I nodded, "Mom, did Dad have any plans set in place? A will or anything."

She nodded and got up slowly, heading to the closet, "Our important papers are in a safe that we keep in our closet. I guess it would be good if you and maybe Clarke know where it's at."

"Combo?"

"Clarke's then yours then Charlie's birthdays," came the muffled reply.

"That's not bad, but you should really reconsider another combination, Mom," I told her. "Birthdays are always the go to."

She came back with a small stack of papers, "I know, but the really important stuff is in a safety deposit box. This is just a copy of your birth certificates and last wishes."

She handed the papers over to me and I perused them, pulling out the ones pertaining to Dad, "Mom, why couldn't you do this for Clarke before? They told me that you've been pretty much stuck in this room for the last four days."

"I don't…I've wanted to…but seeing you," she stumbled over her thoughts. "It's as if now that you're here, the last piece of your father is too. Like I can breathe again. Since I got that phone call, it's like I felt as if I was drowning while still trying to stay afloat and failing miserably."

"Mom," I said looking over at her, "I'm not home to stay. I can't. But I'm here for as long as this takes."

She nodded and I watched as tears began to form again and she took a shuddering breath, "I'll take what I can get."

I set the papers beside me and took her hands in mine, "Mom, I know this is hard. One of the last things any of us would have ever expected. Even with everything this family is a part of…Dad was a good guy. It's gonna hurt. It's gonna be hard. But no matter what, we will get through this. _You_ will get through this. The worse thing you can do is shut everyone out or lose yourself in work. You take it one day at a time, okay?"

She looked at me in wonderment, "I hate to think what you've seen that you can say that with such confidence."

I shook my head, "It doesn't matter. Now that you've given me some of days papers, Clarke and I will take care of everything. Just focus on being there for Charlie, okay? And call Aunt Callie so that you have someone to lean on right now."

She hugged me, "Okay. Thank you, sweetheart. I'll do that."

"Good," I said nodding. "When's the next Council meeting?"

She looked at me in surprise and I just leveled a look at her making her sigh in resignation, "What day is it?"

"You know what? I honestly have no clue," I said chuckling. "The last month has kinda been a blur."

She chuckled, "I know how that feels. The meeting's supposed be Friday at six."

I nodded, "Alright. Last thing, I need Dad's keys to his office. His _real_ office."

"Quinn," she cautioned.

"Mom, I don't really have a choice. As much as you want to keep us out of the business, it's not an option for me. I need to do this, okay?"

She sighed, but nodded and went over to their dresser, "I know, but wouldn't you want to wait. Let the dust settle."

I stood up, grabbing the papers with me, "No. We can't be weak, Mother."

She turned with a set of keys in her hands, "It's not weakness to show grief. To take the time to grieve."

"I agree, but that's not what I'm talking about," I said, looking at her sternly. "Our family is one of the three founding families of _Skaikru._ This is about strength of Legacy. This is about making sure that the others know that the Griffins are still one of the most powerful families in our organization. That we will not crumble at the loss of our patriarch. Do you understand?"

She nodded weakly and handed over the keys, "I'm just trying to look out for you, Quinn."

"Mom, I can look after myself. And who ever set that explosion better pray to whatever god they believe in that I never find them," I told her fiercely, my voice laced with deadliness. "They _will_ pay for this."

She just nodded mutely and turned her attention back to her bed. I knew she wanted to crawl back under the covers and let the world sweep over her again, but she couldn't. I wouldn't let her.

"Mom, go and take a shower," I told her gently. "Clarke ordered pizza from _Gino's_. I'll send Charlie up with a few slices for you. Spend some time with her and call Aunt Callie, please?"

"Okay. Okay, Quinn. Thank you and I'm sorry for being such a mess," she looked at me meekly.

"Don't be sorry for missing him, Mom. I miss him too. We all do. But we need our mother, so please be there for us," I implored.

She nodded and gave me a weak smile, "Alright. I got it. God, it's good to have you home."

I gave her a kiss on her forehead, "I know. Now, I'm gonna head down because I am starving. Then I'm gonna take a shower and get out of my uniform. I've been wearing it for the last two days."

She chuckled, "You do that and give yourself a chance to rest before you take on the world."

I snorted a laugh, "The world waits for no one, Mom. I'll rest when I'm well and truly dead, but I'll make sure that I get some sleep."

She gave me a hug and then ushered me out of her room. I looked at the keys in my hand and I felt determination creep up on me. She knew more than what she was willing to tell me and I was determined to find out what it was. I pocketed the keys and headed back downstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

After inhaling a pizza on my own and spending time with our friends, I settled into the couch as most of them finally left us. It's not that I didn't want to have them around, but after years of being away I had forgotten how extra they were. The only ones left were Bellamy and Murphy. It had surprised me slightly when I found out they were dating, but in retrospect I could see how well they worked together.

Charlie was still upstairs. She hadn't come back down after heading up to Mom. Clarke was busy cleaning up after everyone. When she was thoroughly ensconced in the kitchen, I turned to Bellamy and gave him a look.

"What is it," he asked quietly.

"I need to speak with you and Wells," I said. "I'll tell you guys together."

He nodded and pulled out his phone to type out a message, "You should know that he and Clarke aren't really on speaking terms anymore."

I raised an eyebrow in question, "Really? What happened?"

He shrugged, "I'm not too sure, but there was some kind of falling out. She's not gonna like seeing him here."

"Well, she's gonna have to get over it," I huffed. "I need what he knows."

"Alright, you don't have to bite my head off," he said defensively. "He'll be here in twenty."

"Great," I said standing up. "Gives me time to take a shower. Try not to leave stains on the couch."

"As if we'd be that trashy," Murphy snarked.

"Need I remind you about that night in Cabo," was the only thing I said as I grabbed my bag and headed upstairs.

"You promised to never talk about Cabo," he yelled.

After a quick shower, I grabbed my laptop, phone, and the folder containing the preliminary findings and headed down to the study. Clarke had replaced Charlie in Mom's room and Charlie was plugged into her phone with the music loud enough to be heard by my naked ears.

I was just logging on to an encrypted VPN when the doorbell rang. Looking at my watch, I saw that it had been exactly twenty minutes. The door opened and I heard a deep voice greet Bellamy's. Less than a minute later, Bellamy came into the study followed by one of our oldest friends, Wells Jaha.

"Close the door," I told Bellamy as I stood up to greet Wells. "Hi, Wells."

"Hey, Chief," he greeted me with a hug and smile.

I returned the hug, "It's Senior Chief now."

He looked at me in surprise, "What? No way."

I nodded, "Yep. Just made it last cycle. Anyway, I wish this was under more pleasant circumstances, but it is good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too. So, why am I here," he said taking a seat.

I sighed and walked back to the other side of the desk and slid the folder over to him, "Dad's death wasn't an accident. Someone sabotaged the lab."

They both looked at me in shock and Bellamy asked, "How do you know?"

I nodded at the folder in Wells' hands, "Prelim reports from the fire department and DOD. Both are investigating the explosion."

"These are dated just twenty-four hours after it," Wells said, looking at me as he handed the folder to Bellamy. "How'd you swing it?"

"I have connections outside the family business. Once word reached what happened, they gave me the folder. They're still looking into it for me and I was just about to check my email before you got here," I told him as I logged on.

There was an email from Spade and opening it, I found the information regarding that particular project. It was an official DOD sanctioned project that dealt with air filtration systems for deep space exploration. Which meant that it was an environment that dealt with nearly pure oxygen mixed with nitrogen. Still very flammable and dangerous to not be monitored closely.

I looked up at them, "Alright. So, nothing more on the investigation as of yet, but the project Dad was working on was a sanctioned DOD project. Deep space air filtration systems."

They exchanged a look and Wells said, "That doesn't seem like a reason to blow up the lab. From the news reports that place was nearly completely destroyed."

"Oxygen and nitrogen rich environment," I said. "With the right combination, it could easily disorientate anybody in the room and if there was a spark from crossed wires or anything like that…"

"Boom," Bellamy said.

I nodded, "But you're right, Wells. The project doesn't seem to hold the kind of weight to sabotage. If we were dealing with animatronic robots or some kind of defense mechanism, then yes. This is pretty innocuous."

"Are we sure that it wasn't just human error? Could the investigative teams have misread the evidence?"

"It's possible, but I think it's highly unlikely. From the reports, there was obvious tampering with the tanks. The only thing that couldn't be found was evidence of a timer or something along those lines."

"But you wouldn't need a timer if someone was on a payroll and they created the spark themselves," Wells pointed out.

"True, but again this is just the preliminary reports. I haven't seen any witness reports from the survivors."

"Can you get those?"

I nodded, "I know someone who can."

"So, if it wasn't for the project. Why set off an explosion," Bellamy asked.

"That's why I'm talking to you two," I said, sitting heavily in the chair. "I've been out of the country and away from the business for a long time. I have no clue what's been going on and I'm hoping that maybe the two of you can give me some insight."

"I'm pretty low on the totem pole, Quinn," Bellamy said, handing the folder back to me. "I mean, Kane's taken me under his wing, but it's mostly mundane errands. If he's called into meetings, I'm left standing outside guarding."

I looked over at Wells, "Wells?"

"There's been some talk," he said slowly. "More meetings in recent weeks than usual. Dad's been pretty quiet about the whole thing, but he's been preoccupied. The guys I've dealt with have been on recruitment and we do seem to be bringing in more men. They've mostly gone to Pike and Sydney."

"And what is it they do again," I asked leaning back.

"Pike's our trainer," he supplied. "Firearms, hand to hand combat, tactics. Basically, he's creating soldiers for the front line. Sydney? She works mainly with the transports. Our blue collar workers."

"And nothing on why we would need more soldiers or transporters?"

"There's been talk of increased activity in Polis. That they're amassing for some reason."

"Amassing what?"

"You name it, they're gathering it."

I narrowed my eyes in thought, "Is _Trikru_ creating an empire of sorts?"

He shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine, but it could be. _Trikru_ is as old and powerful as we are. If they were able to convince the others to join them, that would make them nearly unstoppable. But like I said, it's just talk. There's nothing definite."

"There is something else," Bellamy said cautiously. "A new player on the board. Wells mentioning recruiting reminded me. Some of the guys have talked about being approached by an outside source. Trying to lure them away with the promise of more money and power."

"Any names or affiliations," I questioned.

"Just one. Emerson. Don't know if that's a person or what."

Sighing, "Alright. Well, keep your ears open for more of that. Descriptions would be nice too." He nodded and I asked, "What about the meetings? Who's going into them and how frequently?"

Wells spoke up, "Dad's been meeting with a lot of different council members. Almost daily. But Pike and Sydney have been more frequent than most."

"Kane?"

"He's been absent most of the time," Wells said thoughtfully.

"Anyone outside the organization?"

"Maybe? I'm usually sent away during the meetings. Like, kicked out of the building and not allowed in until they're over."

I nodded thoughtfully, "Was Dad anywhere near those meetings?"

"Maybe once or twice. Your mom though. I've seen her more frequently around the office than usual."

I sat up straight at that, "Mom? You're sure?" He nodded. "What the fuck?! Dammit, I knew she was hiding something from me."

"Who's hiding what and what the fuck is _he_ doing here," Clarke's voice drew our attention to the door.

Bellamy stood up and placed himself between her and Wells as I stood up cautiously.

"Clarke," I said, drawing her venomous glare to me. "It's fine. I asked him over."

"It is not fine," she said coming into the room. "Do you know what he did?! He is a liar and a traitor."

I looked over at him for an explanation, but all he gave me was a sorrowful look and a shake of his head.

"Okay," I said trying to placate her. "I don't know what happened, but it's important that I talk with him."

"What could be so important," she demanded.

I closed my eyes and braced myself, "Dad. Dad's death wasn't an accident."

"What?!" she screeched.

"Calm down," I told her. "I don't want Charlie to hear this. And I sure as hell don't want Mom to know that I'm telling you this."

"Why?"

"Because she doesn't want to get you or Charlie involved. She's trying to protect you."

"I don't need protection," she seethed.

I sighed and I motioned for the guys to sit back down, "This whole thing is more complicated than what anyone of us could have imagined, Clarke. You have your career to think about. Charlie's life hasn't even started yet. If you go down this rabbit hole, you will not come out unscathed."

"What about your career? Your life?"

"They could both be at risk," I told her truthfully, "but I've been involved for a long time now and I have things in place."

"What? How?"

"Okay, before you pass out, Bellamy give her your seat."

He did without a word and she flopped down. I slid the folder towards her and motioned for her to take it.

"What is this?"

"In that folder are the preliminary reports from both the fire department and DOD that are investigating the explosion at Dad's lab," I told her. "I was given that before I headed home. In those reports, it's strongly believed that it wasn't accidental. Someone tampered with the tanks of oxygen and nitrogen. It's unknown at this time what exactly caused the explosion, but it would only take the barest of a spark for an explosion to occur."

"What was he working on," she asked as she flipped through the pages.

"An air filtration system for deep space exploration," I told her. "Completely DOD sanctioned. Not exactly worthy of sabotage."

"It's not," she said, looking up at me. "So, what would be the point of blowing up a lab?"

"Something more devious," I said more cautiously and looking at her carefully.

She looked at me sharply, "Are you telling me that someone was the target if these reports are accurate?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

I sighed and taking a deep breath to let it out slowly, "I think Dad was the target."

"Why? He's just an engineer."

I had a silent conversation with Wells and Bellamy trying to figure out if it was best if Clarke was let in on the truth. The question I was most worried about was if she was strong enough to handle the truth.

Bellamy seemed to read my question and voiced an answer, "She can handle it, Quinn. I know she can."

Wells nodded in agreement and I took a moment longer to think about it and look at her more closely. Because if I told her the truth, it would turn her world upside down and change everything she believed. No longer could she play the innocent and remain unscathed when shit went down. This wasn't supposed to be her world and I sure as hell hoped that Charlie would never be exposed to it. In the same thought, I knew that Clarke deserved to know the truth. That she was just as strong, loyal, stubborn, compassionate as the rest of us. Or at least, me and Dad. I wasn't quite so sure about Mom anymore.

I nodded more to myself, "Okay. Even though Mom is going to kill me, I'll tell you. But what I'm about to tell you does not leave this room. You cannot under any circumstances let Charlie know. This is not something to take lightly and will lead you down a path that you cannot come back from. Are you sure that you want to know? You can walk right out that door and forget that this conversation ever happened."

She shook her head, determined, "Look, you're leaving. Whatever's happening, I'll still be here. I'll be the one that makes sure that Mom doesn't lose herself in work and that Charlie goes to school. I'm going to be the one to take on all that responsibility. Not you. So, just tell me what ever it is."

"Alright. There's no really easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna say it. Our family, the Griffins, along with the Jahas and Kanes founded an organization way back when technology was in its infancy. An illegal organization, much like the Irish mob."

She looked at us incredulously, "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"I'm not," I told her solemnly. "We're a part of organized crime. We operate primarily out of Arcadia and deal primarily with weapons and technology. It wasn't until Dad married Mom that we got involved with pharmaceutical distribution."

"Mom knows about this and is a part of this?!"

"Yes, but not initially," I told her calmly. "I'll tell you the story another time. _Skaikru_, which is us, is run by a Council who is headed by a Chancellor. Currently, Theolonius Jaha is the Chancellor. Each council member runs a different department. Mom along with the Greens are head of pharmaceuticals. Marcus Kane heads our weapons distribution. Dad…he headed our technology along with Jaha. _Skaikru_ owns Arcadia and has a deal with the Federal Government."

"So, you're saying that _Skaikru_ is untouchable," she questioned.

"Yes and no," I explained carefully. "As long as we deal with approved clients and stick with legal pharmaceuticals, we're golden. If our weapons or technology is found in the wrong hands or we start dealing with illegal pharmaceuticals then all previous deals are null and void. The Government will crack down on us until we're obliterated."

"And the three of you are part of this organization?"

We all nodded and I said, "It's tradition that all first born children are brought into the organization, but only those that are high up in the hierarchy. Low level families are in and out of _Skaikru_ all the time, but to get out they have to buy their way out."

"So, you're saying that the three of you didn't have a choice."

"Wells and I didn't."

"And I chose to," Bellamy interjected.

She looked up at him confused, "Why would you choose to join?"

He gave her a long suffering look, "You know how hard my mom worked just to provide the little bit that we had. Joining meant that I could help out and make sure that Octavia was taken care of. It hasn't been that bad and Kane's taken me under his wing, teaching me."

"You mean, grooming you," she countered frowning.

Shrugging, "The higher up you are, the safer you are."

"Before you two devolve into an argument," I said, "we have more important things to discuss."

"Sorry, Quinn," Bellamy apologized.

I waved him off, "Look Clarke, this is the last thing I thought I'd ever be talking to you about. You're supposed to remain blissfully unaware of this aspect of our lives—"

"Why? This seems to be a big part of our lives if I'm hearing you right."

"Because Dad didn't want this for you," I said softly.

"How do you know? You've barely been home since you enlisted," she bit out angrily.

I sighed and rubbed my face in frustration. When I looked at her again, I felt resignation settle on my shoulders and I wish that Dad's death had been an accident because things would've been so much simpler. Looking at the screen blankly, I lost myself in the thoughts of everything I'd been told and the things I've done in the past.

"Quinn," Clarke recalled my attention.

I blinked the past away and sighed again, "I know because Dad told me. When I enlisted, I asked him if you'd be told because if anything happened to me the responsibility of our legacy would fall to you. But he told me no. That if anything were to happen then that would be it. Our family's involvement would die with him and Mom. He wanted you and Charlie to live long and happy lives. Do what you love, settle down eventually and start a new legacy. That's all he ever wanted for you…and me. Even though being part of the inner circle means that our immediate lives aren't in danger, there's plenty of other things that can ruin lives. And I think, after what Wells and Bellamy have told me that Dad was against whatever is happening."

"You think he was killed, assassinated, to remove opposition?"

I nodded slowly, "The way the Council works is that any changes have to be voted unanimously in favor. If it's deadlocked then the Chancellor casts the deciding vote. If Dad had any council members backing him or on the fence, his removal could catapult the vote in favor of what's being discussed."

"So, what's the plan then," she asked looking each of us in the eye.

"The plan is for me to go to his office tomorrow and find out what's going on and which way he was leaning. Maybe talk to Kane, if I think I think I can trust him. Then take my rightful place on the Council at the meeting on Friday," I told her plainly.

"And do what? If you back Dad's decision that puts your life in immediate danger."

"Depending," I start of slowly, "on what I find in his office, I'll make a few phone calls. Clarke, I'm not without resources of my own and I'm not that easy of a target. The one thing that I excel at is planning and executing that plan. I know that I've been gone a long time and things have changed, but I need you to trust me on this. Whatever's going on, it's bigger than saving Dad's reputation."

Cerulean eyes stared into cerulean eyes for a long moment and then she nodded, her eyes turning to steel, "Alright. If you're going to do this, I want in. Before you try and argue me out of this, hear me out. If you're right and this is bigger than Dad's project and someone wanted him gone, you're going to need all hands on deck. Mom's in no condition to handle anything. That means the council. You don't know who you can trust on that council, but if I take Mom's place in the interim than that means that you've got at least one person backing you. Which means that _nothing_ will pass unless you and I agree. I know I don't have Mom's years, but I understand more about pharmaceuticals than you do. That's a fact. Speaking of Mom, do we know where she stood or if she knows what's going on?"

I sighed and looked at Wells to give the explanation. He steeled himself and replied for us, "Abby's been seen around the offices more frequently in the last couple of months than she has since we've been alive. I've seen her with Dad and several council members, namely Hannah Green, Charles Pike, and Diana Sydney. She came to a couple of meeting in the beginning with Jake, but recently I've seen her alone. Those meetings where I've been kicked out of the building, I have noticed her car when I've returned. So, it's safe to bet that she's at least aware of what's going on but not where she stands."

"When I spoke to her," I said, swallowing thickly at the thought that she might have something to do with Dad's death, "I could tell she was hiding a lot more than she was telling me. There was also an air of guilt around the sorrow. She wasn't too thrilled about me picking up Dad's mantle, but I think she's still trying to wrap around the fact that I'm home. I know she was adamant about keeping you out of everything. I couldn't tell if the shock she was displaying when I told her that Dad's death wasn't an accident was due to the fact that the reports indicated sabotage or that I had the information."

"I know that she's been extra busy at the hospital," she told us. "I've tried to schedule lunch with her several times but I got told that she's in meetings or surgeries. The surgeries have been legitimate, but there's no reason why she would be having frequent meetings. Not even consults happen that frequently and she usually calls and talks to me about those. We need to sit down and get the truth out of her."

"Not right now," I cautioned. "We need information first. If we can get into Mom's stuff without her knowing would be great. I know that I can't because my presence would cause too much attention."

"That is something I can do. I practically grew up in the hospital and it wouldn't be uncommon for me to be in her office if I'm caught. It'd be easy enough to come up with an excuse to be there since Mom's on a leave of absence for a month."

I nodded, "Okay. Clarke, are you sure you want to do this because once you go down this path, you can't come back? When this is over you can't turn your back on the organization and pretend you're not a part of it. This is a lifetime commitment for you. There's no buyout option. As a Griffin, once you're in, you're in."

"What if I wasn't a Griffin," she tried to joke.

I gave her a wry smile, "If you weren't determined to be on the Council, maybe there'd be a buyout option. So?"

"I understand what you're telling me. If this was just about saving Dad's rep and making sure that he doesn't take the blame for the explosion, I'd still get you the info and let you do your thing. But," she paused and licked her lips giving away her nervousness, "this is an attack on our family and I will be damned if I let someone get away with hurting my family. That includes the Delinquents."

I leaned back and looked at the guys and quirked an eyebrow in question. Bellamy looked long and hard as he debated internally about what it meant to have Clarke on our side and on the inside. He came to a decision and nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I don't like the idea of Clarke putting herself in such a position, but honestly if she's a part of _Skaikru_ it'll be easier to get a protection detail on her. No offense, Clarke, but you have absolutely no training and until we figure out what Pike is up to, we can't risk having you train with him."

"If we're right," Wells spoke up, "and Jake was removed to pass a vote, any kind of opposition is dangerous. If you step up and take your mom's place on the Council and back Quinn, that puts you in a lot of danger. But knowing you, I know that you won't be able to just sit back and let us handle it. That's not who you are. Saying that, I know that you won't be reckless in your decisions and that you're fully capable of making the hard choices if it comes down to it. From a business standpoint, having Clarke join is sound and a smart move, especially if Abby is in on whatever's going on. From a personal standpoint, this is not something I would ever want Clarke to be a part of. Joining breaks the illusion that our world is better than what it is."

"Then it's settled," I said sitting straighter in my chair. "Call Kane and arrange it. See if we can't do it tonight."

Wells nodded and pulled out his phone before standing up and heading out of the study.

"What about Charlie," Clarke asked. "How do we protect her?"

"Luckily, the Delinquents are all a part of _Skaikru_," I said with a smirk. "Until this is over, we'll set up a rotation with them. They're going to be around anyway, so we might as well put them to work and we know that we can absolutely trust them."

"What the hell," she exclaimed. "How the fuck did I not know this?"

Bellamy and I shrugged, chuckling, "First rule of fight club…"

"You don't talk about fight club," he finished.

Wells came back in, shoving his phone back in his pocket, "It's set up. I didn't tell him who we were bringing in. Ten o'clock tonight."

"Smart move," I said. "Bellamy, get with the Delinquents and set up the rotation for Charlie's protection detail. We want it to look like they're just hanging out with her to keep her company while Clarke and I handle the funeral arrangements and everything else. Wells, if you can, start getting details on those meetings. I want to know who's meeting your dad and how frequently. Tomorrow, I'm heading to Dad's office to go through everything he has and setting up tighter security. Clarke, if you're up for it, while I'm at the office, go to Mom's and find out what you can. Oh, and get Dad's death certificate so we can start making the arrangements. We'll meet up tomorrow night at Dad's office to start going through everything. The Council meeting is Friday at six and I want us to be as informed as we can going in. Agreed?"

They all agreed and before they left, I let Bellamy know to have Miller and Murphy meet us. When Clarke asked why, I told her that they were going to be her detail from now on. Murphy groaned at the news but quickly agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

Once the guys were gone, we headed into the kitchen to start dinner. I knew that it was going to be a long night, but I was used to it from the long hours at the hospital. I tried to get Quinn to lay down for a while, but she was adamant in her refusal.

"I want to take you out for lunch," I said as we started working on lasagna and a salad.

"Why," she asked as she cut up some cucumbers.

"Besides the fact that you're home and I haven't seen you since Christmas? You made Senior Chief last cycle and you're barely thirty. That's impressive from what I've read. That deserves to be celebrated."

I looked over and saw her blushing slightly, "I guess. I know that this makes me one of the youngest to ever make Senior Chief, but sometimes I forget that I am one. Totally freaked me out when I stopped on the carrier to refuel. Oh, I saw Raven while I was there. It was her ship I landed on."

I smiled, "Really? How is she? I haven't heard from her in almost two months."

"She's good. She's dominating the poker games and according to her, rules CIC. That's like the command center of a ship where SONAR, RADAR and tactical command is. She's still learning to rein in her snark and stay on the good side of her superiors."

I laughed, "That sounds like a nearly impossible thing for her to do."

She chuckled, "Yeah, but she's trying. She misses everyone, especially her 'sisters.' She was pissed that she couldn't get leave to come with me, but she's not giving up on trying."

I nodded feeling a lump build in my throat. I choked it down, "As much as I would love to have her and O here, I know how hard it is to get leave. I was really surprised that Polis General allowed me to take a leave of absence and keep my residency."

"Yeah, that was nice of them," she said, frowning slightly.

"What," I pressed.

She shook her head, "It's just that Polis is _Trikru_ central. They're another organization. Not our rival, per say, but they're as powerful and influential as we are. Once you go back to finish your residency, you're going to have to be real careful on who you trust. I have no idea who the players are, but Kane should."

"Should I be worried," I asked. "Maybe look at finishing here at Arcadia?"

She shook her head, "I don't think so. As far as I know we're not in conflict with them, so it should be relatively safe."

I bit my lip in thought and feeling nervous about what I was about to embark on, asked, "Is it…is it just _Skaikru_ and _Trikru_?"

She looked over at me before glancing down the hall, "No, there's thirteen in total, but let's not talk about this anymore. Not where ears may hear, okay? I promise, we'll go over everything."

I nodded, letting out a breath and focused on adding the sauce to the meat. We worked in silence for a little bit longer before Quinn decided to break it.

"So, what's it like living in Polis," she asked. "You do live there, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded and smiled slightly. "It's got a relatively small downtown area for as large as the city actually is. I've got an apartment a couple of train stops from the hospital. The only time I take the car is when I get off late which is about four days a week. The city itself is kinda sprawling. A lot of green with wooded areas dotting the area. On my days off, I usually head to one of the parks and just breathe in the clean air."

"That sounds nice," she said a little wistfully. "I'd kill to be deployed to a forest instead of damn deserts and rocky mountains. Would love to experience something besides that damn dry heat, too."

"That explains the bleached blonde and tanning bed look you've got on," I teased.

"Oh, shut up," she scoffed with a grin. "At least it's better than being Casper."

"Hey, don't call me that," I said shoving her lightly. "I can't help it that I'm stuck in a hospital all the damn time."

"Oh, yes you can. You don't _have_ to be a doctor. You're a fucking brilliant artist. You could be traveling the world and capturing your adventures on canvas then selling them for thousands."

"I love being a doctor and helping people. I love the challenge of a trauma surgeon. Yeah, it sucks when I lose people, but I'm good at remembering all the people I saved. I mean, yes, I love painting and sketching, but I think I'd grow to hate it if I tried to make a living from it. It's a good way to relieve the stress and I _do_ occasionally sell a few paintings. I'm happy with my choice of career."

"That's good. I'd have to kick your ass if you weren't."

"Whatever," I said and paused a bit before I nervously asked, "Hey, can I ask you something? In all seriousness."

"Sure," she said, turning to look at me squarely and leaning against the counter.

"Do you ever think about settling down? You know, starting a family and whatnot," I asked as I began layering the lasagna.

She looked down at her feet as she considered my question and when she looked up at me, I could see the naked vulnerability in her eyes as she answered, "Sometimes. But the truth of the matter is that it would take someone special to be able to handle me. I'm not saying that to be cocky or anything. I've seen and been through things that on a weaker person would lay them low. I have nightmares, panic attacks. I can be hyper vigilant at times to the point that it nears paranoia. I sleep with a knife under my pillow even if I know that I'm perfectly safe. I know that I suffer from PTSD and I see a therapist and psychiatrist on a regular basis. So, finding someone who can handle that is difficult and because of that, it makes me nervous about settling down. I would love to have a family, but I'm not so sure that it's in the cards for me. At least, not right now. Maybe when I'm ready to get out."

"Does that mean that you've sworn off relationships," I asked curiously.

She shook her head and graced me with a sweet smile, "No. I've actually been seeing someone off and on for the last year or so. She's in the Navy like me, but we're at different duty stations. It makes it hard to see one another on a regular, but we care about each other a lot."

"That sucks, but it's good that you guys care about one another. So, do I get a name or anything," I said returning the smile.

"Uh," she looked at me with wide eyes and then shook her head, biting her lip in apprehension, "it's not that I don't want to tell you, it's—"

"Hey," I said, reaching over and laying a hand on her arm seeing her distress, "that's fine. I admit that it hurts that you don't really want to talk about her with me, but it's your choice."

She sighed and relaxed, "I want to tell you. I really do. We haven't had the talk about telling those closest to us. The relationship is complicated enough as it is because of our separation without adding family into the mix. In the time we've been seeing each other, we haven't even talked about making it official. Making a true commitment."

"Would you want to?"

She shrugged, "In an ideal world, yes. She's the only one that I've met that seems to truly get me and that I can be open and vulnerable with. I know that she would never betray me or my feelings. She'll tease the fuck out of me, but never maliciously. And I would do everything I could to make sure that she was happy and know that I would never betray her trust."

"Then maybe the next time you see her, you should talk to her about maybe taking the next step," I said understandingly.

She nodded and huffed, "What about you? Anyone occupying that grey matter of yours?"

"Not like your girl," I said, laughing softly. "It's really casual. Almost a friends with benefits. Her name's Niylah. She's sweet and understands that I'm not looking for something serious. At least, not right now while I've got such crazy hours at the hospital. And honestly, after that shit with Finn, the thought of something serious makes me nervous and doubts start surfacing."

She growled lowly, "That _boy_ better hope I never lay eyes on him because what he put you and Raven through is wrong on so many levels. He'll beg the gods that he was never born."

"Down, girl," Charlie said as she entered the kitchen. "That was almost feral, sis. Makes me think twice about ever bringing a boy home."

Quinn huffed in irritation and rolled her shoulders to ease the tension from them, "No one hurts my family, Charlie. They do, shit's gonna go down and I'll do it with a smile."

"Noted," she said, looking between the two of us. "So, um, how long before dinner? I'm starving."

I looked at the timer on the stove and replied, "About twenty minutes."

"Cool. Did everyone head out or what," she asked sitting down at the breakfast bar.

"Yeah," I nodded. "They felt better about leaving now that Quinn's home, but they'll be in and out of the house until after the funeral. Since the two of us will be handling the arrangements and Mom's staying in her room, none of us feel comfortable leaving you to deal with that alone. I know you're almost eighteen and fully capable of taking care of yourself, but could you just indulge us this once?"

She nodded reluctantly, "I guess. As long as you don't leave me alone with Jasper. I mean, I love the guy but it's like I'm babysitting him."

That caused us to laugh and shake our heads, "Yeah, he is like a huge man child still, but I do love him. He makes life interesting."

"No, Raven makes life interesting," Quinn interjected. "He just makes it weird."

We all laughed at that and our talk turned to more innocuous things as we waited for the lasagna to be done. It was good to let go of all the heaviness that had invaded our lives, even if it was just for a little while. What surprised me was seeing Mom come down the stairs following Quinn, who had gone up to see if she would join us for dinner. We kept the talks light and centered on what everyone had been doing lately. It was a rare moment to have all the Griffin women in the same room. For a moment, just a split second of time, it felt normal, but then time reasserted itself and the empty seat at the head of the table reminded us that we were no longer complete. That there was a glaring hole now in our lives.

It started with Mom. She looked up at the head of the table and looked like she was about to say something, but that emptiness stopped her. I saw the sorrow envelop her once again and the guilt that stood on the edges of that pain. We watched as she quickly excused herself and heard her stumble up the stairs in retreat.

Charlie lasted a bit longer, but she too felt the sorrow build until it was too much for her to sit with that empty space. She hugged the both of us tightly and I felt a few tears leak onto my shirt. I just whispered soothing things in her hair and let her go.

Quinn cleared the table as I sat there staring at that empty space. Lost in the thoughts of what could never be. Losing myself in the memories that I knew I could eventually lose. The sounds of scraping and water running were the only sounds that permeated the silent house.

Hurt, anger, sorrow settled over the house like a weighted blanket making everything feel heavier. Movements felt jerkier and more unsure. It felt like I was breathing in humid air, my lungs straining to pull it in. I stood up abruptly and headed to the backyard, gulping the summer air and noticed that it wasn't as heavy as it had been inside the house.

I stood against the porch railing, looking up at the stars as I recalled the many hours I had spent during those summer nights long ago. Listening to my father tell me stories about the stars. I felt my tears finally fall and I took a deep shuddering breath as I let my grief consume me. For at least a little bit.

The door slammed quietly shut behind me and I closed my eyes to rein my emotions back in. I felt Quinn's presence beside me. Strength and security emanated from her. So, I leaned against her and felt her arm wrap comfortingly around my shoulders as my head leaned against her shoulder. Wordlessly, she held up a bottle of beer in offering and I took it, taking a deep pull. The fumes tickled the back of my nose as the sweet aftertaste lingered on my tongue.

We stood there quietly, taking comfort in one another as we both gazed out into the night.

"I think the last time we stood like this, just the two of us," she said quietly, "was the night before I headed to boot camp. I was so nervous because I knew that as soon as I stepped on that bus to head to the airport, my life was going to change. I knew what to expect because I'd grilled the recruiters relentlessly until they told me the truth and not the PR version. I knew I could handle it after years of playing hockey and going to hockey camps. Honestly, I think some of the RDCs could take lessons from the coaches I had."

"You're rambling," I said softly.

She chuckled, "Yeah, I am. That night, it wasn't the nervousness that kept me up. It was the fear. The fear of what happened afterwards. Would I get the school I wanted, what I signed up for? Would I do well? Was this the right choice for me? And on and on. My biggest fear was what would happen to you guys if something happened to me. If something were to happen and I never came home. That scared me so much that I nearly changed my mind about going, but you told me something. Do you remember what you told me?"

I took another drink from the bottle as I reversed over a decade of memories for that night. Let it replay until I came to that point in our conversation.

I nodded slightly, "I remember. I told you that it would hurt. Like a piece of my heart would be torn out. That life would never be the same because there would now be a void where you once were. I didn't want you to go because the idea of you not being here, protecting me, scared the shit out of me."

"That's when Dad came out," she said softly. "He had heard our conversation and felt it was time to interrupt. He validated our fears and reminded us that it was okay to have them, but that we couldn't let them rule our lives. That if we did, it would mean that we were only surviving not truly living. That it would keep us from finding happiness, love, and all the good things in life. He reminded us that death was a part of life and yes, it would hurt and leave an emptiness, but that it was because of the impact that person had on us."

"He said that the most important thing we could do in remembrance would be to continue living, not just surviving. To find happiness and love and to keep and cherish what we had. Because our loved ones wouldn't want us to stop just because they were no longer there to experience that with us."

"Right," she said tightening her arm around me. "To live life one day at a time. To find one positive even if it feels like the earth was closing in. To cherish all the small things we come across even if the smile or laugh is fleeting."

"And he reminded you that we have to do what's right for us. To do what makes us happy and not what other people want or wish. That no one has the right to dictate your choices because they're not living your life, you are."

"And at five in the morning, I was boarding that bus and determined to be the best I could be because it was what I wanted. And every morning since then, I wake up determined to be the best I can be. I am happy with my choice and I love my job and my life. I'll keep doing it until it no longer makes me happy." I felt her sigh deeply, "I've lost people I cared for over the last twelve years. It comes with the territory, but it never gets easy. I'll find myself looking for someone or glimpse something familiar or think of something that I think so-and-so would like but they're not there. My heart will seize and I'll feel this ache in my chest. I'll feel sad and guilt will creep up because I'm alive when they're not. It's hard some days and I just want to curl up in a ball and stay in bed all day. Some days, I'll indulge myself and do that when it gets too much. Most days, I give myself a few minutes to let myself feel those emotions and then I remember Dad's words. I remember and I get up and I do what I gotta do. I look for that one positive and cherish it. I think the biggest thing to remember is that emotions don't make us weak. Emotions make us human and that it's okay to have them."

"Dad would be proud of you," I told her, looking back up to the stars. "You've gotten wise in your old age."

She scoffed, "He's proud of all of us. We're doing what we love and we're happy. As long as we keep doing that, we'll always make him proud."

"I think you're right," I said and we lapsed back into silence, sharing the beer between us.

We didn't move until a noise from Quinn's pocket roused us. She sighed and pulled out her phone before finishing the beer.

"It's time, Clarke," she told me. "Are you sure that you want to go through with this? You still have time to back out."

"I'm sure," I replied. "This isn't just for Dad. This is for all of us. Our family."

She nodded, "Alright. I'll drive."


	6. Chapter 6

The drive was silent except for the soft music playing from the radio. The closer we got to the center of Arcadia, the more run down the city began to look. I chanced a glance over at Clarke and noticed that she was nervously picking at the sleeves of her jacket. It reminded me of the times when we'd be in the back seat of our father's SUV, heading to some competition or company dinner. The image my mind produced was nearly instantaneous and I was no longer seeing my 26-year old sister, but rather her twelve-year old self in a pale blue chiffon dress with her blonde hair pulled back into an elegant French braid.

"Shouldn't your eyes be on the road," her raspy voice broke through the image and I blinked several times before I returned my focus forward.

I cleared my throat, "Sorry, got caught up in a memory."

"Oh? Care to share with the rest of the class," she teased.

I chuckled, "Just when you were twelve and wearing a pale blue chiffon dress. I don't remember where we were going, but you playing with your sleeves reminded me of that time. You were picking at a loose thread and Mom kept scolding you for it."

I could hear the smile in her voice as she recalled, "Oh, yeah. It was the first time I got to go to one of Dad's company dinners. I was so nervous because I didn't want to make him look bad."

"Even though he kept reassuring you that there was no way his 'princess' could ever make him look bad. You charmed the pants off most of the people you met."

She sighed audibly, "And you're bringing this up, why?"

"You're nervous," I pointed out. "You've met Kane hundreds of times before now. The only difference is that this is a more official meeting than the family barbeques we used to have."

"That's why I'm nervous," she huffed. "This isn't some family get together. This is me joining a crime syndicate that until a few hours ago, I didn't even know existed. Let alone, that our family is one of the founding members."

"You're right. I'm not trying to downplay the seriousness of tonight, but what I am trying to tell you is this…if your little ol' twelve-year old self can charm CEOs and investors out of their hard-earned money at a company dinner. Then your 26-year old self can convince a man that has probably changed your diaper into letting you join."

"Oh."

I smirked, "Yeah, 'oh.' Look, I'm nervous too. I'm just better at hiding it."

"What do you have to be nervous about? You're like the freaking heir to Dad's seat on the Council."

"Oh, that's easy. I'm nervous because I _am_ the freaking heir to Dad's seat on the Council. Bringing you in is my first official act. Not only that, I am fucking exhausted. I have no idea how many time zones I backed over to get here."

"I told you to take a nap," she said exasperatedly and smacked my arm.

"If I did, I'd still be asleep," I argued and then with a sly grin, "Feeling better?"

Her gasp let me know that she caught on that I was trying to calm her down, "Sonofabitch! Yes, I feel better. I hate you."

Laughing, "Why? Because I got you to think about something else besides what's gonna happen in a few minutes. Gee, thanks, sis. Love you too."

"Oh, shut up. Where are we going to anyway?"

"A tattoo shop," I replied. "It's where we hold the final interviews before accepting someone into _Skaikru_ permanently. And to show their loyalty, they're permanently inked with our symbol."

"I'm getting a fucking tattoo!"

"Yes. It won't be a big one and because you're working in Polis, I suggest you have it put somewhere that won't accidently show. Your hip would be perfect."

"I heard tattoos over areas like that hurt more than a fleshy area," she pouted.

"Thigh?"

"Maybe. Why didn't you tell me that I was going to have to get a tattoo? And where's yours?"

I chuckled again, "Don't tell me you're a wuss to pain, sis? And mine is on the inside of my left wrist."

"That's why you wear those leather cuffs all the time. I just thought it was some weird superstitious thing you did from your hockey days. And I'm ignoring the wuss comment."

"Fine," I drawled out.

She snickered and we settled back into silence. Ten minutes later, I turned down the alley next to the tattoo shop and pulled to a stop a few feet away from a black Suburban with tinted windows. On the other side was a silver Lexus GS, Harley Fatboy with ape hangers, and an older model, light blue Volvo.

As soon as I turned off my headlights, the doors on the Suburban opened and out came Bellamy, Murphy, and Miller from the opposite side. Miller and Murphy stayed back while Bellamy came up and leaned against the side of our car.

Clarke rolled down the window, "Hey, Bell."

"Princess," he replied, smiling. "Q."

"Bell," I said in greeting. "Where's Wells?"

"Inside with Kane. So, what's the game plan?"

"You and I will head inside and lay the groundwork while M & M over there keep Clarke company. When we're ready, you'll come out and get them. Then, it's just a matter of being supportive while Clarke convinces Kane."

He nodded, "Okay. No problem with that, but what're you and I going to be doing inside?"

I ran a hand through my short hair and sighed, "Well, I'm going in there to remind Kane that I'm a member and that Dad appointed me as his heir. I need to establish my authority and readiness to step up as a Council member. What I need from you is simple; back me up and observe. We need to figure out if we'll be able to trust him and gain his support. So, watch his body language and pay attention to what he's not saying."

"Yeah, I can do that," he agreed.

"Good. Clarke, do you have anything to add or questions," I said, looking over at her.

"Um, not really," she replied nervously. "I'm just worried that I won't be able to convince him. What if he insists on talking to Mom?"

"I think you can agree with me that Mom isn't in the right state of mind to make any kind of decisions," I told her gently. "We have to practically bully her into doing things. If he talks to Mom about you, she'll sound hysterical and may do something that we'll all end up regretting."

She nodded and sighed heavily, "Yeah, you're right. I feel like we have to make her seem like she's completely unhinged in order for me to take her spot on the Council."

"Unfortunately, that's what we're going to have to do. Dad's death is hitting her hard and I hate that we're going to have to capitalize on that, but I have a feeling this is bigger than just Dad's death."

"Alright," she said, giving me a small smile. "You better get in there and do your part."

I returned her smile with one of my own, "Don't worry. We'll get through this."

She nodded with a new look of determination, "We'll get through this."

With that, I got out of the car and exchanging nods with Miller and Murphy, headed inside with Bellamy. Walking inside brought me back to when Dad brought me for my own tattoo. The memory and emotions of that day washed over me as I moved. The nervousness of what it meant to become a full member of _Skaikru_. The excitement of finally being able to find out what he talked about in the meetings I wasn't allowed in. Plus, it was my first tattoo. At sixteen, I thought that was the coolest thing ever.

I snorted at that thought and Bellamy looked over at me in confusion, but I just shook my head. He let it go and as we came to the end of the small hallway that led to the back of the tattoo shop, he slowed until he was a half-step behind me.

It was a deliberate move on his part. He was showing that I was higher in the hierarchy than he was. He had also shifted over until he was on my left-hand side, my non-dominant side. Letting me know that he had my back and would protect me if it came down to it.

In our world, movements like that were important. It was a power play. But Bellamy's position was also double-sided since he worked for Kane. If Kane thought I was a threat, Bellamy was in a prime position to take me down. It was a delicate thread we were maneuvering but one we were both willing to take on.

Stepping out of the hallway, we came across four people in the room. One was a woman in a tank and faded jeans with a full sleeved tattoo on her left arm, tanned skin, piercings, and her long light brown hair was pulled into a single braid. She barely gave us a glance before she continued talking to her companion, a man of medium build with muscles showing through a too small t-shirt with the name of the tattoo shop blazoned on the front. He had shaggy russet colored hair that scraped the back of his shirt. He had a few notable tattoos but wasn't inundated with them. I pinged them as employees and then dismissed them from my mind.

It was the other two that my focus turned to. One of them was Wells, who nodded in greeting when our eyes met. The other was Marcus Kane. Dressed in business casual, he stood tall with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. His brown hair was longer than I remembered and beginning to gray along with a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes widened in surprise upon seeing me, but he quickly schooled his features to something more pleasant.

Walking directly over to them, "Kane, thank you for meeting us at short notice."

"Quinn, you're home," he replied, holding out his hand automatically.

I shook it and smiled a bit ruefully, "I am. I wish it were under different circumstances."

"Your father was a good man. Such an unfortunate accident."

Nodding, I decided to start laying the groundwork on bringing Clarke onto the Council, "It is. Mother hasn't been the same since it happened. From what Clarke and Charlie told me, she hadn't left her room since the accident. I practically bullied her to take a shower and join us for dinner. It's breaking my heart to see her like this."

"I can't imagine," he replied sadly. "I take it that you're here to inform me of your intentions, Quinn."

"I am. I'll officially be taking Father's seat at the Council meeting on Friday. Since it's been awhile, I wanted to ask if there was anything I needed to be made aware of," I said, getting straight down to business.

"Nothing that won't be reiterated at the meeting on Friday," he stated calmly. "Recruitment is up as well as sales through all departments. No new council members. It's still the same people that you were introduced to way back when."

I looked at Wells thoughtfully as he narrowed his eyes in thought. Either he was lying about the numerous meetings or he didn't know about them. Which was odd because Kane was considered to be Jaha's right hand. Unless something has changed in the last few years, that should still be the case.

I decided to see if I could a reaction out of him to determine if he was lying or not and asked, "What about the numerous meetings that have been happening recently, Kane? Surely, something is going on that requires such avid attention."

He barely masked his look of surprise before calmness settled on his features, "Well, there's been gossip that _Trikru_ is gathering resources. Talking to other syndicates. About six years back, there was an upheaval within _Trikru_ and supposedly someone new has taken over. We haven't been able to get much intel on this person, just that things were being done differently. It's possible that is what's being discussed."

I began to pace slightly, "But you're the head of our weapons department, Kane. Shouldn't you be privy to those discussions along with Pike? I mean, you are our supplier and an increase in recruitment means an increase in arms. Or am I wrong?"

"There's only been a slight increase in our need for our personal armory," he answered. "Most of the recruits have been handed over to Diana Sydney. Our transport needs have increased by over twenty percent in the last year."

"Does that include weapons," I persisted.

He nodded, "It's been across the board. Weapons, technology, and pharmaceuticals."

I nodded, "Okay, that seems plausible, but Kane, it doesn't explain why you've been absent from these meetings. You are still considered Jaha's Right Hand, are you not?"

He sighed, "As far as I know."

"Very well," I said and paused in my pacing. "There's another reason why I'm here tonight, Kane. It's in my opinion that Mother is in no condition to continue her role on the Council. Like I said earlier, we're bullying her into taking care of herself. She'd rather spend her days curled up under heavy covers and hiding in her bedroom. I don't see that changing anytime soon or at least not until we find out the cause of Dad's death and have finally laid him to rest."

"What are you saying, Quinn," he asked, his body tensing in seriousness.

I sighed, "I have someone who is qualified to take her place on the Council in the interim. They're a doctor and is probably more knowledgeable on pharmaceuticals than Mom. They know about _Skaikru_ and are very much aware of what it means to be a member and that it's a lifelong commitment. I can't think of anyone more qualified to take her position. Nor is there anyone I trust more."

"Who is this person?"

"Clarke," I said, steeling myself and looking him square in the eyes. "She's the best, no, the only choice to replace Mom on the Council until she gets better."

"No," he said shaking his head. "She is still a student. She has no working knowledge of how things are run and no experience. Besides, your parents strictly forbade anyone from recruiting either her or Charlotte."

"She has two years left in her residency, Kane," I persisted. "She has been working alongside doctors for the past three years. She's working at one of the best hospitals in our region and has a more intimate knowledge of what drugs are being utilized than Mom is. Mom's been relegated to an office, does consults on surgeries and rarely performs them anymore. Her specialty is cardiothoracic surgery. Clarke's is working on becoming a trauma surgeon. In regards to my parents, Dad is dead and Mom isn't in the right headspace to make rational decisions. Can you honestly tell me that having someone with a working knowledge of what gets used in hospitals isn't beneficial to upping our sell of pharmaceuticals? Look, talk to her. Test her, if you feel it's necessary. But I am telling you that until Mom is on her feet, she is your best choice in handling the department. The Greens are good with homeopathic drugs, but not what gets pushed around in hospitals and clinics. Clarke is."

"You have a point," he replied, sighing. "Your mother is removed from the day to day operations of a working hospital. And it's always been a slight point of contention that her specialty limits her knowledge. Alright, I'll speak with her, but I hold no guarantees."

"Thank you, Kane," I told him sincerely.

I looked over at Bellamy and nodded. He nodded back and left the room without a word, leaving me to continue my study of Kane. His body language showed me no signs that he was hiding something, but I could tell that his mind was thinking about the many meetings that he hadn't been a part of. Maybe, he didn't know about the meetings and that gave me greater pause. It was one thing to know about the meetings without the need to be present, but it was another to be left out completely. I watched as he leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, his eyes moving back and forth rapidly as he continued to think.

"How'd you know about the meetings, Quinn," he asked suddenly, looking over at me.

I jerked my head towards Wells, "Wells told me when I asked. Both he and Bellamy told me about the meetings and the uptick on recruitment."

He nodded, "It shouldn't have surprised me, but it does."

"When family calls, we'll always answer, Kane," Wells spoke up for the first time since I arrived.

"True. You were always a smart one, Quinn. I just hope you know what you're doing."

I chuckled, "I've got more than enough experience, Kane."

"I'm sure you do."

The noise of a shoe scuffling the floor drew my attention back towards the hallway. I turned to look and saw Clarke pause just inside before she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and walked into the room with all the confidence of a queen. Catching her eye, I gave her a small smile and a nod of encouragement. She gave me a small nod back before she turned her attention to the man leaning against the wall.

When she neared, she smiled politely and said, "Kane, it's been a while."

"That it has, Clarke," he replied, standing up. "I hear you have a proposition for me. I'd like to hear it."

"I'm here to replace Mom on the Council," she said, her voice never wavering.


	7. Chapter 7

The early morning sun glinted harshly off the windows of the buildings as I rode past winding my way delicately through traffic. My eyes never stopped roving as I took everything in. From the pedestrians on the sidewalks to the birds in the sky, looking for hidden threats. I took a moment to appreciate the normalcy of the city. That the populace remained blissfully ignorant of the world at large. Sure, they were aware of conflicts and agendas that gripped the world's stage, but at the same time, they didn't know everything. They didn't see the many machinations that operated under innocuous guises and smokescreens. They were aware, but they weren't awake. It was better that way because, in my opinion, it gave them a chance at happiness and let them know some modicum of safety.

I sighed in resignation as I turned down a street because I had betrayed my parent's wish, and Clarke was now one of the woken. She was now aware of how much grayer the world really was and that our idyllic life was anything but. It was heartbreaking, but I knew my sister. I knew that once she learned that the explosion hadn't been an accident, she would've wanted to be involved. I also knew that if she had found out about our family on her own, which she would have, she would have felt utterly betrayed and lose all faith and trust in us. I couldn't let that happen, and now she was in as deep as I was. I just hoped that I could keep her safe. Her and Charlie.

I slowed down as I neared my dad's office, scanning the street to see if anything looked out of the ordinary. I didn't stop right away; instead, I circled the block once before I pulled to a stop across the street from it.

The building wasn't much to look at. Old brick architecture from the turn of the 20th Century. Large glass windows took up most of the first floor with shades drawn. There were no signs to indicate that it was a business of any kind. There were an additional two floors and a fire escape that led to the alley. The roof was flat with gargoyles adorning the corners and latticework giving it an air of age and past refinement. Though the exterior looked old, it didn't have an air of disuse. I didn't see any signs that vandals or taggers had attempted to infiltrate the building.

I glanced around the immediate area once more, and not seeing any sign of it being watched, I turned off my bike and made my way across the street. Reaching the door, I noticed a camera pointed at the door and leaning back a little saw two more at each corner. They were small, and the casings seemed to be generic, but knowing my dad, I knew that most likely, they were state of the art. Or at least, the best that he could probably develop.

I took a slow breath before I reached into my jeans and pulled out the keys. Unlocking the door, I paused for a second before I pushed it open. Stepping in, the lights suddenly flickered on, and I glanced up to notice the motion sensor. An alarm began blaring, and I looked around for the control pad. I quickly disabled it before I turned back to the door and locked it again. Turning around, I pulled my helmet off to better take in the room.

There wasn't much to the room. A few desks and chairs littered the space underneath plastic sheets to keep the dust off. Looking at the floor, there wasn't a layer of dust, which meant that someone was keeping the space clean. Good in the long run because it meant that it maintained the illusion of some kind of work going on here. Bad because I couldn't see if something was amiss.

Dissatisfied with my inspection, I moved towards the back where I knew my father's office would be. Stepping into the office was like stepping back through time. Memories flashed of seeing him working on one of two engineering desks or bent over the drafting desk. His mind and fingers occupied by whatever idea had popped into his head. I smiled bittersweetly at the memory and stepped into his sanctum.

The overhead lights flickered on, the sound of a computer being turned on brought my attention to his desk. Behind it stood a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with books about engineering and space, and a multitude of knickknacks and unfinished bits of metal and wire. Stepping over to it, I smiled sadly as I ran my fingers gently over the spines remembering his stories about the stars and the excitement of exploration.

I lost myself in the memories until a beep broke through, and I turned around to face the monitor and saw a blinking cursor and prompt asking for a password. Looking around, I saw a few filing cabinets between the desks and knew that they would be full of ideas and not much else. I wanted to ignore the reason why I was there. I wanted to immerse myself in the memories of myself and Raven, bugging my dad about his latest project or working with him on projects of our own. Except, I couldn't. I couldn't afford to lose myself in those memories because then the hole in my chest would widen, and the pain and grief would be too much for me. I couldn't let myself grieve the way I wanted to. I couldn't crumble under the weight and succumb to the sorrow that beat against my heart in an attempt to shatter it. I had to be strong. I had to be the rock that my family could cling to as they grieved. My time would come eventually. I just hoped that whatever was going on was finished before I reached my breaking point.

Shaking myself loose, I laid my helmet on the desk and pulled my pack off my shoulders. I dug around in one of the pockets and let out a small cry of triumph when I pulled out what I was searching for. A decoder no larger than a thumb drive. I plugged it into one of the ports, and when a second command prompt popped up, I inputted my password and let it get to work.

Pulling out the chair, I sat and made myself comfortable as I waited for it to do its work. Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long. My dad may have top of the line security measures, but it was nothing compared to what I worked with on a daily. I'm sure he would have loved to look into my bag of tricks when it came to technology, and I swallowed the ache that thought brought me.

Instead, I focused on what was on the screen, opening up folders and programs searching for any shred of information. I found a secured folder requiring a password, and when I got it opened, I couldn't help the groan that passed my lips. Each document I looked at had been written in code.

"Dammit, Dad," I cursed low. "Why can't you ever do anything easy?"

I ransacked my pack again and pulled out a small black box. Innocuous looking on the outside, but it was the programming on the inside that made it very special. Inside held a codebreaker along with every code currently known. It had to be updated nearly daily as new ones were discovered, but I knew it would get the job done. I watched as the documents I had open slowly devolved into something I could read.

As I read, I discovered that some of them were recordings of meetings. Council meetings and private meetings. My dad had recorded them all. My blood ran cold as I thought about the dangerous possibilities if these documents ever reached the wrong hands. The lives that could be ruined. The danger it would put our family in. It was daunting, but I trudged on.

There were also journal entries. Dad's personal opinions and feelings about the meetings. It gave me insight into the man I thought I knew. It slowly revealed that as lighthearted and affable as my father was, he could also be cold, calculating, and ruthless. I skimmed over plans to ruin people or downright assassinate someone. I saw plans to bring businesses to the point that their only hope was to sell or merge to survive. It was eye-opening, and I gained new respect for him.

It begged the question as to what ultimately cost him his life. I hoped that the answer laid somewhere in his notes.

My little codebreaker box let out a high-pitched beep, and the monitor flashed before a series of documents began overtaking the space. Now, one thing needed to be understood. I worked for a super-secret organization that operated outside the normal bounds of the law, both national and international. Those working for the organization were kept hidden in plain sight, and only those at the very top knew who was who. Everything was compartmentalized in order to keep the organization and its people safe.

My military records read as some of the blandest shit an Aviation Machinist Mate (AD) could have and still make Senior Chief in twelve years. The reality was darker and dirtier. The one thing that was beaten into those chosen to be a part of the organization was that absolutely no one could know. Not my Commanding Officer. Not my family. Not my friends or lovers. No one.

I hadn't breathed a single word of what I did to a soul. So, why was I freaking out and thinking if I had maybe one time gotten loose-lipped enough to reveal my exact job? Simple. Flashing in bright white letters amidst a backdrop of red was the one name I'm supposed to take to the grave. Project Laniatum Excubiarum. The Sentinel Project.

I was fucked.

I took a shaky breath and reached into my pack to pull out my sat phone. The line clicked once and then connected, "Send her."

"Done," the voice on the other end said. "Anything else?"

I swallowed thickly around a lump that had suddenly found itself lodged in my throat, "Permission to execute Security Measure Delta."

"Granted," the voice replied after a pause.

I sighed in relief, "Thank you."

The line went dead, and I sagged in my seat, relief flooding my system. I pulled out a burner phone and placed a call to set up security for Dad's office. I needed to protect this information, and what he had wasn't going to cut it. Feeling better, I silenced the alarm and pulled out a couple of hard drives. I downloaded everything regarding the project onto one and erased it from his computer, hoping that he didn't have it anywhere else. After that, I turned my focus to learning what Dad had written down in the last few months. I prayed that what I would find was the reason why my father was no longer with us and not because of what was now sitting in a drive. If it wasn't, I wasn't long for this earth.


	8. Chapter 8

Pulling into the parking lot of Arcadia Hospital my nerves skyrocketed and it suddenly felt like I was slowly suffocating. I forced myself to pull into a spot and park before my vision darkened with spots. Leaning my head against the steering wheel, I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. It wouldn't bode well if I couldn't get myself back under control. I had no one to blame but myself for my current predicament. Oh, I wanted to blame Quinn, but I knew better. She had given me ample opportunities to back out. Though thinking back, it didn't seem like she put up much of a fight to dissuade me. I'd have to ask her about that later.

Feeling better as my heart started slowing down, I leaned back and stared at the hospital that had been as much a home to me growing up as my parents' house had. Memories flooded my mind of following behind my mom throughout the hospital. Wearing my child-sized lab coat with a toy stethoscope around my neck and getting smiles from both the staff and patients. Playing with children who were either brought by patients or patients themselves. Hugging those same people trying to comfort them when things didn't turn out well. Comforting her mom whenever she lost a patient. I had felt such pride every time I'd gotten someone to smile even if it was teary-eyed. It had made me want to help people and then learning the science behind what Mom and the other doctors did had been fascinating. And now I was just two years from joining their ranks officially.

Even after learning what Mom was involved in, I didn't feel as disillusioned as I thought I would. Quinn had explained how our parents had been practically bullied into Mom's participation by Kane's father who had been Chancellor at the time. Worn down until they agreed. It made me feel a little bit better about the whole thing, but I still felt a bit betrayed because they had kept this whole secret second life hidden from me. I would have liked to have been given the choice.

I sighed as I ran my hand through my hair and looked at the clock on the dash. Damn, it's already after one. I need to get in there and the sooner I get in, the sooner I can get out. With that thought, I was out of the car and headed into the hospital.

Recognizing the receptionist, I waved in greeting and moved quickly before she could stop me and ask questions. I didn't want to talk to anyone because I felt like I was close to breaking. I just couldn't tell if it was because somewhere in the depths of this hospital laid the body that used to belong to Dad or because of why I was here. I didn't want to risk blurting something that could bite me in the ass later, so I hurried into the elevator and pressed the button that would lead me to the cardiology ward.

Leaning back against the wall, I let out a breath and pulled out my phone. In all my thinking, I had forgotten that I had no idea what I would be looking for. Texting that to Quinn, I closed my eyes and concentrated on putting up a brave front because I knew that I wouldn't be able to move down the ward without having someone stop me.

The elevator dinged and gathering what courage I had like a cloak to surround me, I stepped out as soon as the doors opened and headed towards Mom's office.

I had made it halfway down the hall before one of the nurses spotted me.

Shit.

I plastered a small smile on my face as she neared, "Hi, Chloe. How are you?"

She gave me a confused smile in return, "I'm good. What brings you here?"

"Mom forgot some things in her office and this is the first chance I've had to come."

"Oh. How is she? We're all a little worried about her."

"She's hanging in there," I answered. "It's difficult for all of us, but with Quinn home, it's a little bit better."

Chloe smiled, "Oh, that's good. I'm sure seeing that Quinn is safe and whole eases her mind."

I nodded and glanced towards the end of the hall where Mom's office was before I focused on her again, "It does. I'm sorry, but I really need to get going."

"Oh, of course," she apologized quickly. "Just let your Mom know that she has our condolences."

I nodded, "I will. Thank you."

She nodded and gave me a comforting squeeze on my arm before she moved on. I sighed in relief and quickly walked away. I pulled Mom's keys out of my pocket and opened the door. I closed it behind me and leaned against it as I took a few deep breaths before I checked my phone again.

**Q**: _Anything to do with pharmaceuticals or trials. Don't discount anything to do with the heart._

**C: **_Where should I look?_

Almost immediately, I got a reply.

**Q:**_ Locked drawers and cabinets. Behind framed certificates and pictures. Books that no one wants to look at if they were waiting for her. Just look everywhere and bring anything that has to do with meds. I doubt she'd have anything mentioning Skaikru/Sky people/Sky crew._

**C: **_How do you know this?_

**Q:** _James Bond and Jason Bourne. Don't you watch spy movies?_

I huffed in irritation at the jab.

**C:**_ Shut up._

**Q: **_And that's my answer, lol._

I couldn't help the growl at the implication and shoved my phone in my pocket. I refused to be baited by her. I'm sure I'd hear it later, but it felt good to have her at my back. I stepped further into the office and moved until I was behind Mom's desk.

I started opening her drawers and rifling through the files, pulling out anything that looked like it dealt with medicine. I could look through it all later to figure out what could be important. Unlocking her desk drawer, I grabbed folders and flipped them over, skimming the contents and setting the ones that dealt with meds and trials on top of the desk. There wasn't much and before I knew it, I was turning my attention to the filing cabinets. These were locked and I had to dig more thoroughly. The majority of what I came across were patient records and I would have bypassed them, but something made me give them a second look.

A niggling thought and I was looking back through them to see if any had complications from medications. Ones that either extended their stay or ended in their death. I thought there could be a connection and honestly, the more information we had the better chance of figuring out what was going on.

It took me longer than I wanted before I was finally through with the cabinets and my little pile of folders was slowly growing. Remembering Quinn's suggestions, I started to peak behind the framed certificates on the wall looking for hidden thumb drives or anything that might give me a clue as to hidden documents. I didn't find anything before I turned to the bookshelf behind Mom's desk.

I felt silly opening the books and shaking them to see if anything came loose. I was kneeling on the floor when I heard a knock and then the door opening. I shot up feeling like I'd just gotten caught with my hand in the cookie jar and came face to face with an Indian woman in a business suit.

We stared at each other in surprise before I finally cleared my throat, "Um, can I help you?"

She started and her eyes got a little bit wider before she put on an air of indifference, "You're not Doctor Griffin."

I narrowed my eyes at her statement and feeling a little suspicious, "I'm not Dr. _Abigail_ Griffin, but I am Dr. Griffin. And you are?"

"Oh, you must be Clarke. Your mother speaks very highly of you," she replied, stepping into the office, plastering a fake ass smile on her face and extending her hand. "I'm Dr. Lorelei Tsing."

I shook her hand out of politeness and was disappointed how weak it was. Dad had always told me that you can tell a lot about a person by their handshake. Most doctors Mom worked with were confident in themselves and a bit cocky, but this Dr. Tsing wasn't giving me the same feeling. It was making me curious as to why my mom would be even speaking with this woman and who she was.

Feeling a little bit more confident, "I'm sorry. Mom's never mentioned you. Did you have a meeting scheduled with her?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that," she replied quickly, her eyes shifting around the room. "A standing lunch unless she has a surgery scheduled. It's strange that she didn't tell me that she wasn't going to be here today."

I stopped myself from frowning. Mom had never mentioned the woman and a weekly lunch would have warranted at least a mention during our phone calls.

I sighed and gave her an apologetic smile, "Well, I'm afraid that the last week has been a bit of an upheaval. She's taken a leave of absence and won't be back to work for a month. Would you like to pass on a message?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary," she said quickly and looked like she was about ready to bolt which made red flags wave immediately in my mind. "I suppose, I'll just give her a call later this week."

I nodded, "Of course. Though, I must warn you that she may not answer. She's not really speaking with anyone at the moment."

Her face morphed into one of concern, "Oh, may I inquire as to why?"

I mentally shrugged, "I suppose. My father passed earlier this week. It was quite sudden."

"My condolences. I know she loved him dearly."

"I know."

She shuffled on her feet awkwardly, "Well, yes. I'll just get in touch with her at a later time. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Clarke."

I couldn't help the frown that formed at being regarded so informally, "Same, Dr. Tsing."

She nodded and gave me a small smile, taking one last look around the office with her eyes and then left, closing the door behind her. I sagged slightly in relief and waited several minutes before I turned back to the bookcase. I had reached the bottom shelf and after shaking two more large tomes of medical texts, a drive fell out of a book that looked old enough to crumble.

I snatched the drive up quickly and shoved the book back in its place. I looked around the office and didn't see any other place to look, so I shoved everything into the bag I'd brought with me. I looked around to make sure that nothing looked out of place before I turned off the light and locked the door behind me.

I walked up to the nurse's station, leaned on the counter and smiled warmly at another nurse I knew.

"Hey, Jennifer," I said as cheerfully as I could.

She looked up at me in surprise, "Clarke, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, "Mom forgot some stuff that she needed and I came by to pick it up."

She smiled at me sadly, "Yes, she did rush out of here the other day when she got the news. Your father was a good man and we'll miss seeing his weekly flowers."

I returned the smile, "Thank you and he sent me those too. Hey, listen, um, while I was in her office a woman stopped by. She said her name is Dr. Lorelei Tsing. Mom never mentioned her. Do you know who she is?"

Jennifer nodded, "Yes, she came to get your mother's opinion on something a few months ago. They've been meeting up weekly since then."

"Oh," I asked, looking at her with interest.

"Yes, it was nice to see your mother leaving the hospital once a week. She works so hard."

"Yeah, she does," I agreed. "Did you by chance learn who she works for or with? I just want to tell Mom that she stopped by with as much info as I can."

"I can do you one better than that," she said and opened a drawer to begin rifling through it. "She gave me a card and said that their company is always looking for good nurses. Ah, here it is."

She handed me a business card and looking down, I read:

**Dr. Lorelei Tsing, M.D., Ph.D.**

**Research & Development**

**MW Corporation**

**Carlisle, VA**

**(540) 765-9821 ext. 2361**

**LTsing **

I looked up at her, "Do you mind if I keep this?"

"Oh, no, you can have that," she said with a smile. "I'm more than happy working for your mom and the hospital. No one here would ever think of leaving."

I chuckled, "I'm sure that Mom appreciates your loyalty, Jennifer. Well, I really gotta head out. I still need to pick up Dad's death certificate."

Her smile faded as she nodded, "Of course. You'll let us know when the service is and if there's anything we can do?"

"I will," I replied, nodding in assurance. "I'll see you around."

"Bye, Clarke. It was good seeing you again."

"You too," I said and with a wave goodbye headed for the elevator.

I headed down to the basement and the Morgue. I quickly got the death certificate and Dad's belongings. Feeling like I needed to get out of there, I headed back to my car as soon as the doors to the elevator opened on the first floor.

As soon as I got into the car, I locked the doors and pulled out my phone to call Quinn.

_Yeah_, she answered.

"I found a drive," I told her. "I also met someone that Mom's never mentioned before."

_Who?_

"Dr. Lorelei Tsing. She apparently works for a company called MW Corporation. I've never heard of it before."

_Could be a start-up. I'll look into it._

"Okay. Did you find anything on your end," I asked, biting my lower lip.

She let out a dry chuckle that was humorless, _You could say that. Dad was more than we could have imagined. I'm still shuffling through it all. I'll tell you everything when we meet at Dad's office after dinner._

"Okay. I can wait, I guess. By the way, my hip is killing me," I said, wanting to change the subject.

She let out a throaty laugh, _I'm not surprised. You didn't have to listen to my suggestion._

I huffed in irritation, but smiled, "I know, but it's the only place that'd remain hidden no matter what I wear."

_True. Just don't forget to take care of it._

"I won't. So, will I see you at home soon?"

_Not for a couple of more hours. I'll be home in time for dinner._

"Okay. Any requests?"

_Surprise me, but I am feeling some pasta._

I chuckled, "Alright. I'll figure something out. I'll see you soon."

_Yep._

We hung up and I put the phone down so that I could drive back to the house. The bag teasing me the entire time. Before I went in, I shoved the bag underneath my seat and made sure that nothing poked out. After yesterday and meeting Dr. Tsing, I was feeling a little bit paranoid, even double checking the car was locked and the alarm was set. If I had found anything substantial, I didn't want it out of our hands and I sure as hell didn't want Mom or Charlie finding it.

Now, how the hell was I going to pass the time before I started dinner?


	9. Chapter 9

Quinn unlocked the side door that led directly to a set of stairs that would lead to the second and third floors and stepped aside to allow Clarke, Bellamy, and Wells to precede her.

"The door's unlocked," she called ahead to Clarke as she locked the door and set the alarm.

"Is that safe," she heard Clarke call back down.

"Probably not, but I forgot to lock it before I left for the house," she said as she followed them up the stairs and into the apartment.

She had to push through them to enter the apartment proper because they had stopped just inside to take it in. She shook her head in bemusement because she'd had the same reaction upon seeing it for the first time. Making her way to the open kitchen, she looked through the cupboards to see if her dad had left them anything to eat or drink. She found some ground coffee and took a sniff, it still smelled good so she decided to start a pot.

The other three had finally come out of their stupor and were slowly walking around but Clarke made a beeline for Quinn.

"Did you know about this," she asked as she leaned on the counter and watched Quinn measure out the grounds.

She shook her head, "I had no clue. Raven and I were only ever in the office downstairs. I didn't expect to see it fully furnished."

"Do you think Dad was living here," she asked a little worriedly.

Looking over and seeing the concern in Clarke's eyes, Quinn rushed to reassure her, "No. Everything had sheets over them and the furniture is maybe a couple of years old. My question is why would he suddenly decide to furnish it."

Clarke looked around the space, "Maybe to give you a place to stay when you visited since they converted your room into a gym."

"Maybe. Makes sense, but it would have been cheaper to buy a pull-out sofa."

"True," she said and then sighed, leaning more heavily against the counter. "Quinn, did we ever truly know who our parents were? I mean, they're a part of a criminal organization and I never knew it."

She gave her a sympathetic smile, "Do we ever truly know anybody, Clarke? We only saw them as our parents and knew them to be hard working and good at their jobs. We never saw them outside of that. I don't know everything about you because you have your own life with your own people. Same with me. I haven't told you everything there is in my life."

"Yeah, like the name of the girl you've been seeing," she said with a slight smirk.

Quinn chuckled, "And I'm not going to tell you until I get permission. How about we focus on why we're here?"

"Fine. After I get a cup of coffee."

She smiled at that, "Luckily, Dad kept it stocked with cream and sugar too. I know how you like a little coffee with your sugar."

She smacked Quinn on the arm, "Hey! Don't judge. We can't all like our coffee like your soul, Quinn, dark and bitter."

"I am not bitter. At least, I have a life."

"I have a life," she cried out indignantly.

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do—"

"Hey, what's with all the bickering," Bellamy interrupted them as he walked up to them.

"Nothing," they replied in unison.

He and Wells chuckled at them, "Yeah, sure. That sure did look like some sibling bickering going on over here."

Clarke rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, "Whatever. I refuse to be further baited by my annoying sister."

Quinn scoffed, "So, not only am I dark and bitter, but I'm annoying now as well. Gee, I'm really feeling the love here."

"Just pour us the damn coffee, Quinn," she grumbled.

"As you wish, Princess," she said with a mocking bow. "Wouldn't want Sleeping Beauty to fall asleep too soon."

She turned to Bellamy and looked at him expectantly, "Do you see what I have to put up with, Bell? She's only been here a couple of days and she's already driving me up the wall."

He held his hands up in surrender, "Hey, don't drag me into this. I just came over because I smelled coffee."

"Wuss."

"Seriously, Clarke?"

She shrugged, "I call it like I see it."

"Oh, my god, Clarke," Quinn said as she poured everyone a cup. "Stop antagonizing everyone. Don't make me tell Mom."

She gasped, "You wouldn't."

"Try me and you might just find yourself in the basement," she said with a smirk.

Clarke couldn't help the shudder of fear that passed through her body. The basement of her parents' house was creepy. Always had been and she hated going down there even after becoming an adult. "Fine. I'll behave but I reserve the right to start up again if any one of you starts to annoy me."

Quinn shook her head, "Nope. Nothing for the next twenty-four hours or I'll lock you in there myself."

Clarke narrowed her eyes in irritation, "Fine. I'll behave."

Bellamy quietly mouthed, 'thank you,' to Quinn while Clarke's back was turned to him. When Quinn nodded, she quickly spun around but he was already acting innocently.

Now, that the tension had been eased from the apartment and coffee was in everybody's hands, they moved to the living room where Quinn had her laptop out. They settled around the space, the girls taking the couch and the boys taking the two armchairs that surrounded the coffee table.

"Alright," Quinn said, taking over. "Let's start with the verbal stuff first. Bellamy, have you gotten anywhere on who's trying to poach our guys?"

He shook his head, "No. The only name that pops up is a guy by the name of Emerson. The guys I've talked to have described meeting with different people but they all reference him as a contact. Whoever they are, they're using enticements. Better pay, benefits, quicker promotions. At the same time, they've asked as innocently as they can about how our organization works."

She narrowed her eyes in thought, "What's keeping our guys loyal? What do we have that keeps them from jumping ship?"

"That's easy," Wells spoke up. "We take care of their families. We offer safety. Not just for our members but their families too. Medical, food, scholarships. If our people know that their families are being looked after, they're more likely to agree to the jobs we assign them regardless of expected danger."

"So, the benefits far outweigh the potential for increased pay days," Clarke asked.

Wells and Bellamy nodded and Quinn asked, "Okay. That's good and means that we're not in danger of losing members. Did they mention seeing any markings on the people they spoke to? Anything about the clothes they were wearing?"

"No. Nothing stood out to them. They looked normal. Honestly, they said that they thought they were talking with other members of _Skaikru_ until they started on their recruiting spiel."

Quinn leaned back in thought, "A little strange."

"Why do you say that," Clarke asked.

"Most of the other organizations have identifying marks that are specific to them. Like our tattoos. _Trikru_, which I've told you about; the women in their organization have braids. Each braid is specific to the job they do. The more intricate, the higher up they are. The soldiers tend to be well muscled and for some reason look like they're bikers. Long beards and hair, heavily tatted, and so on. As another example, there's a group called the Ice Nation or _Azgeda_. They have a habit of cutting brands into their faces. Again, the cuts are specific to what they do and where they are in the hierarchy," Quinn explained.

"Then there's _Floukru_," Bellamy pointed out. "They look like a cross between hippies and pirates. Free love and pillaging."

Everyone chuckled lightly at his description.

Clarke asked, "So, what's significant about these people is that they look and act like us."

"Right," Wells said. "We prefer to blend in. Hide in plain sight. Our tattoos are always placed somewhere that can be covered up or hidden among a jumble of other tattoos. You'd have to look for it specifically."

"Which would mean that if we really wanted answers, we'd have to grab one of these recruiters."

"That's a possibility," Quinn said. "But we'd have to get it sanctioned by the Council. From Dad's minutes of those meetings, they don't even seem to be aware that we're being poached."

"How can they not be," she asked. "I mean, if they're as loyal as you say, they would feel like it's their duty to report it."

"It's possible that they are, but we don't have any numbers on how many they're trying to recruit," Bellamy reasoned. "The guys I've spoken to work in different areas and are at a lower echelon. Ones that have been in about five years or less."

"So, ones that should be easily persuaded to switch teams but at the same time may not know much of anything about what's going on besides their realm of influence."

"Exactly," Quinn said. "If they're going for information, they're looking at the wrong people. If it's just growing their numbers, what they're doing makes sense."

"Except that it's not working," Clarke pointed out. "So, why keep trying?"

Wells stood up and began pacing. Thinking out loud he said, "Maybe it's not about actively recruiting. What if they're testing their loyalty. Seeing who could easily be persuaded. A way to wean the weak ones from the pack."

Quinn narrowed her eyes in thought and said carefully, "That is a viable possibility. If it's our own people doing it, the question is why. Why would they be suddenly concerned with people switching sides?"

"_Trikru_," Bellamy said, sitting up straighter. "The rumors that they're amassing supplies, people, and so on."

"The only problem with that," Wells said, "is that there have been no sightings of any _Trikru_ within city limits. You know the Council takes an isolationist view of things. Everybody can do what they want as long as it stays out of our territory. We'd only get involved if there's a direct threat."

"Preventative measures, maybe," Bellamy reasoned.

Quinn shook her head, "No. No, Wells is right. The people on the Council like to think we're separate from the other groups. That we're better than they are."

"Why," Clarke asked.

"Arcadia is a safe place to live, for the most part," Wells explained. "Drugs are nonexistent here. The only gang is ours. There is crime, but it's taken care of swiftly and the punishment is severe. _Skaikru_ is more likely to be out helping the community than it is trying to take advantage of it."

"Whereas," Bellamy continued. "in the territories of the twelve organizations you'd find what you'd expect in most major cities. Drugs, gangs, prostitution, police brutality, corruption, and so on. Where everyday people live fearfully."

"I never realized," Clarke said thoughtfully. "But I can see it. Moving to Polis was a bit of an eye opener for me. My first day at the hospital, the nurses made sure that I had mace in my purse when they found out I'd be walking back to my apartment."

"Alright, I think we're going off tangent here," Quinn said. "With regards to recruitment, I want ears open and if someone takes them up on their offer and meets with this Emerson, we need to know about it. Photos of these people so that we can compare them to known members of _Skaikru_. We can also run facial recognition against DMV records."

Wells and Bellamy nodded, "Sounds good."

"Is this something that will need to be brought up to the Council on Friday," Clarke asked, thinking ahead.

"Not until we get more information. If it's one of the Council members is behind it, they're working without permission which means that they're up to something. Ducks in a row and all that, Clarke," Quinn told her. "Now, Wells, I know it's only been one day, but were there any meetings today?"

Wells sighed and flopped down in his chair, "Yeah. Two of them. Both times, I was shooed out of the building. I drove away and then circled back to see who would arrive. First meeting was with Sydney only. Second meeting, Pike and Hannah Green. Kane showed up after I was allowed back and he stayed for several hours. Bellamy can attest that he didn't look happy when he left."

"Bell," Quinn inquired.

"You guys got him thinking," he replied. "He didn't realize that there had been so many meetings between Council members without him. As Jaha's Right Hand, it's his duty to remain fully aware of the goings on in _Skaikru_. The fact that you knew about the meetings and he didn't, irked him. The walls and door were too thick to hear what was said between the two, but I know that Kane was unsettled by the time we left. I tried to gently push for information but he was tight lipped and sent me home early."

"So, the Right Hand isn't sure that he's the Right Hand anymore," Quinn said thoughtfully. "That could work in our favor. I think we'll be able to determine more after the meeting on Friday."

Clarke sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she thought about everything she was learning. She felt out of her depth and worry gnawed at her gut. Right now, she was the weakest link in this whole mess. She had no clue about the history of the organization or who the players were. She worried that she wouldn't be able to convince the rest of the Council that she deserved to sit at their table like she had Kane. The worst was the fact that she had no idea what it was that her mother did for the Council. Her duties. Her contributions. How could she convince a room full of strangers that she belonged.

"Hey," Quinn called to her softly and placed a hand on her knee. "Where'd you go, sis?"

Clarke jumped a little and took a wavering breath, "I don't know if I can do this, Quinn. I don't know if I can hold my own against people who have decades of experience with this shit. I have no clue what Mom did or…or—"

"Hey, hey," she interrupted and gently cupped her face between her hands. "Breathe, Clarke." She waited until Clarke took a couple of breaths before she continued. "You won't be alone. I'm going to be in the room too."

"Yeah, but—"

"But nothing, Clarke. You held your own against Kane last night and he went hard at you. You'll probably hear the same arguments that he used when they see you. They'll cite your inexperience in both medicine and _Skaikru_. Just like they'll probably argue about my time away. None of that matters. What matters is that we know what we're talking about. Just because we haven't been involved doesn't mean that we're uninformed. That's why we're meeting tonight. They won't expect it."

"She's right, Clarke," Wells spoke up from his chair. "They still talk about us like we are still running around shirtless in sprinklers. Like we're children still. Yes, it'll make it harder for them to listen to you, but you can work around it. The advantage that you two have is that you're out in the world. You've got a better grasp of medicine than Abby because you're out there using it and seeing what it's doing to people. Quinn's using military-grade technology that's cutting edge. Dad hasn't seen the inside of an engineering lab in over five years."

"Clarke," Quinn said gently with a smile, "I know that this is scary. You've never done anything like this before. Well, except for the year that you were Vice President for your class." Clarke smiled at the memory. "As long as you and I are united, we're unbeatable. And we're not alone. The Delinquents back us up a hundred percent and they've never let us down when it really matters. They've made some poor choices in the past, but they've always had our backs. We trust no except ourselves."

Clarke took Quinn's hands in her own and gave them a hard squeeze, "You're right. All three of you are right." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, squaring her shoulders. "If we're going to do this, then I need to know everything. I need a crash course in all things _Skaikru_ and hopefully what I brought from Mom's office will help me figure out what the hell she does for the Council."

Quinn beamed at her with pride, "There's my sister. There's the Clarke Eliza Griffin I know and love."

"Oh, fuck off," she said in mock irritation as she shoved her sister away from her, but smiling. "Now, how about we turn to whatever Dad had hidden away."

"Aye, aye, _Capitana_," she replied with a chuckle and turned to her laptop. "So, Dad encrypted his files and had the documents encoded."


	10. Chapter 10

"How the fuck did you get in then," Clarke demanded.

Quinn blushed and cleared her throat, "Well, I may or may not know more about computers and intelligence gathering then I've let on. Just some extra training the Navy's given me due to my duty stations. There _is_ a reason why I've made Senior Chief so quickly and it wasn't just because of my outstanding PRT scores."

Clarke shook her head in disbelief, "God, so you did take after him, didn't you?"

"I guess you could say so. Just like you took after Mom."

"Makes me wonder what the hell Charlie's going to do with her life," she wondered out loud.

"Hopefully, something safe and far away from this shit."

"Word," she said with a bit of a weird nod.

The other three in the room looked at her strangely and then started laughing.

"What," she cried out indignantly.

"Word? Seriously, sis," Quinn said between laughs. "Are we back in the 80s? Oh, my god, where the hell did that come from?"

"Shut up, you jackass," she cried out, shoving Quinn over and then sitting on top of her. "You are such an insufferable ass!"

Quinn was still laughing, "If you'd stop being ridiculous maybe I'd stop being an ass. Oh, wait?! You can't! So, suck it up!"

She bounced on Quinn making her groan. Belatedly, the guys realized neither girl was going to stop anytime soon, so Bellamy got up and pulled Clarke off Quinn and allowing her to catch her breath.

Bellamy forced Clarke to sit in his chair and she huffed at him in indignation as she fixed her hair and tried to get her body to stop flushing.

"Are you two going to behave or am I going to have to call Abby," he asked, his voice tinged with warning.

Quinn groaned and threw her head back, "Fine. I'll stop antagonizing Clarke."

"Thank you," he said and turned to Clarke and looking at her expectantly. "Well?"

"She…I…ugh, fine," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "I'll play nice."

Wells shook his head in bemusement, "Bell, were these two always like this?"

Bellamy chuckled as he sat beside Quinn, "Worse. There was usually mud involved."

Quinn snickered, "Ah, good times. Good times."

Clarke cleared her throat, "Okay, you were saying about Dad."

Quinn sighed and turned on the tv before she paired her laptop to it, "Right. Dad recorded every meeting he went to. Be it Council or private. Work related or not. Then he'd used a dictation program and converted the recordings to these documents. In conjunction, he also typed up his thoughts and whatnot to whatever was discussed. There's about ten years' worth of documents."

Bellamy let out a low whistle and Wells said, "Damn."

Quinn nodded in agreement, "Once I got them decoded and organized, I started looking at the last few months based on when you told me that Jaha started meeting with people secretly. This is what I found."

"Can you give us the cliff's note version," Clarke asked.

"There's two notes of interest. One, is Mom came with an outside proposal. A company was looking for an endorsement for a new type of antipsychotic for schizophrenia. According to the documentation provided by the company, they're still in preclinical trials and want to get an Investigational New Drug Application that'll get FDA approval."

"Except that Mom's a cardiologist, not a neurologist or psychiatrist," Clarke said, thinking. "How would that be possible?"

"We have a direct line to some of the top neurologists and psychiatrists in the country," Wells told her. "An endorsement from Abby would get them to look into the drug and see if it's viable."

"Even with an endorsement, getting a new drug approved for clinical trials is extremely hard."

"Which is where our ties with _Skaikru_ come into play," Quinn said. "With the right wheels greased, we can fast track approval. The key is making everyone see a profit with only a small margin of actually helping people get better."

Clarke growled slightly, "So, we're really not helping people, just taking their money."

"Yes and no. There has to be a viable gain because, like you said, it is extremely difficult to get a drug through the entire process and get FDA approval to put it on the market. It's not only cost that they look at. That's why it's important that when a company comes to Mom for an endorsement, their preclinical trials have to be highly successful."

"And this was brought to the attention of the Council?"

"Yes, because Mom just can't endorse something without the approval from the Council. The reason being that an endorsement means that we'll be putting in time, effort, and money into a drug that we think will work and will give us a profit."

"That makes sense," Clarke said, nodding. "And what did Dad think about it?"

"The numbers from the trials. There's something off about them. Like they were padded to look good or something like that. There's a suggestion in his notes that he never voiced in the meetings. He thinks the company may have already moved on to human trials, but there's no definitive proof."

"What's the name of the drug," Clarke asked, getting her bag from where'd she left it by the door.

"Um, Sanguinseri," Quinn read from the documents. "It sounds like a bastardization of blood serum or maybe red serum."

"How do you know that," Wells asked.

"_Seri_ is Latin for serum," Bellamy answered. "And _sanguis_ is Latin for blood. Blood serum would be literally translated as: _seri sanguinis auferunt_."

"You both know Latin?"

Quinn and Bellamy looked at one another and then shrugged. Wells just shook his head in disbelief, "Unbelievable. I'm surrounded by nerds."

"Shut up, Wells," Clarke said as she sat back down. "Maybe if you applied yourself more in college, you'd know what we're talking about."

"Clarke—" Quinn began to say but Wells cut her off, "Don't bother, Quinn. Leave it."

Quinn growled in frustration but kept silent as Clarke looked through the folders.

"Nope. Nothing. Mom doesn't have a hard copy of anything like that," Clarke said.

"The drive you found," Quinn asked.

She pulled it out and handed it over. Quinn put it in her laptop and opened it to reveal dozens of folders pertaining to different drugs. She scrolled until she found the one labeled with the new drug and opened it. Clarke's eyes roamed the screen as she skimmed over the documents and saw what her dad had seen.

"Yeah, the data points don't correspond with the length of the trials. They would have had to have tested thousands of rats or whatever animal they used to get those numbers," Clarke said to the room as she continued to read. "The brains are different too. There's approximately thirty scans from the last month alone compared to over a hundred when they first started the trials. Can you find the effects of the drug?"

Quinn opened several documents before she found the one mentioning effects and waited while Clarke read it.

"Dad's right," Clarke said after a soft gasp. "They're performing human trials. The effects, the numbers…Quinn, this looks really familiar to me."

Quinn looked at her confused, "What do you mean?"

Clarke took a deep breath and looked at her square in the face, "I mean, I know where they've gotten their data from. They've been testing it in Polis. Every time I've been in the ER, there's been at least four patients brought in showing these symptoms. They can become extremely violent at a drop of a hat and can break through normal restraints. Normal dosages of sedatives don't work. We've had to double, sometimes triple, dose them before they're sedated. Withdrawal for them is a nightmare. Seizures and multiple heart failures. One in ten make it out of withdrawal and the craving is so bad, that we'll see them again."

"Fuck," Bellamy said, running his hands through his hair. "This is bad, Quinn. If _Trikru_ finds out that we're helping pollute their town with this kind of drug…they could declare war on us."

"Which brings us to Dad's second point," Quinn said and backed out of the documents and opened the minutes and his journal back up. "There's been talk of an alliance. Calling themselves _Maunon_ or the Mountain Men."

"What could they bring us," Wells asked.

Quinn scratched her head in confusion, "See, that's the thing. They really don't have much to offer us. Their technology, weapons, pharmaceuticals…it's all below our quality. There's some interesting work with A.I. drones but that's still on paper. Their arms dealers work with groups that are in the gray but just on this side of legal. Their pharma is paltry and decades old."

"Members?"

"Less than a thousand. There's a hint of hidden numbers but they refuse to mention from where. It's like they're new to the game and are desperate for allies."

"And the Council is seriously considering this," Bellamy asked in disbelief.

"Dad mentioned that Pike and Sydney were really interested and are the ones pushing it. But I don't see it. Nothing says allying with them is a good investment. Now, if it was _Trikru_ or even _Floukru_, then I can see major advantages."

"Where does the rest of the Council stand," Clarke asked.

"Divided. Mom, Dad, Kane, and Fuji are against. Pike, Sydney, Hannah Green, and Cole are for. Jaha, Callie, and a guy named Cuyler are on the fence. But Jaha will only put in a vote if we're evenly divided."

"What's keeping the people on the fence?"

"Those hidden numbers," Quinn said as she read the notes. "Dad thinks that they may have allied with another organization. There's three that we will absolutely not deal with: _Azgeda, Boudalankru, _and _Ouskejonkru_. They're the most vicious and ruthless out of the thirteen. If we aligned with them, our deal with the Federal Government would be off and we'd be hunted down. They have no compunction about using whatever means necessary to get what they want. They'll use every dirty trick in the book. Sell their own mothers, children. _Azgeda_ is the worst. All they want is power. They want to rule over everybody and reap all the benefits for themselves."

"Well, the answer to that is that we remain in the 'no' column until we find out about the hidden numbers," Clarke replied with a definitive nod. "We remind the Council about our deal with the government and that until we know, the risk is too high. We also remind them that they have nothing that is better than what we already have. That we'd be selling down and would probably lose profit outfitting them to match us."

Quinn smiled, "That's good. It's also very much true. Now, what about this drug?"

"If I'm right about where they're getting their data, all I need to do is pay a visit with the hospital and make a copy of the reports. If we could get the police reports from Polis, that would be better."

Quinn nodded, "I know someone that can get in and get those."

"I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. Even after everything I've learned tonight. I'm surprised."

"I'm full of them. Sorry," she replied, shrugging helplessly.

"Whatever. Now, can you look into this Dr. Tsing for me? I want to know why she's been visiting Mom weekly."

"Yep," she replied and brought up an unregistered search engine. "Is that all we have? A name?"

"No, she works for MW Corporation in Carlisle, VA."

She typed in the information and up popped a site for MW Corporation and someplace called Mount Weather International. She clicked on the first one and went straight to the staff directory. Finding Tsing's name, she clicked on that.

"That's her," Clarke said and began reading the blurb. "Degrees in Neurology and Biology. Studied Psychiatry. University of Delhi, Oxford. Seems legit. What kind of company is it?"

Quinn went back to the home page and they read that it was a bioengineering company that specialized in neuroscience and psychopathology. The company had only been around for about ten years and was headed by the founder, Cage Wallace.

When Quinn clicked on his name, Bellamy spit out, "Guy looks like an asshole. An entitled asshole. I bet he spends all of his time on a golf course, drinking and schmoozing with elitists."

"Yeah, I gotta agree. Dude does not look like he'd know which end of a microscope to look in," Quinn agreed.

"What about Mount Weather International," Clarke asked.

Quinn went back and opened the link for that company. According to the home page, it dealt with mainly diseases and finding possible cures for them. Current CEO was a man by the name of Dante Wallace. Looking through the staff directory, they found blurbs about Cage Wallace and Dr. Lorelei Tsing. Quinn jumped the gun and did a search on the Wallaces and found out that Cage is the only son of Dante Wallace. Mother dead of Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva, a very rare connective tissue disorder with no cure and a hundred percent death rate.

"Well, that explains Dante's company," Bellamy said, sadly. "His wife dies of an incurable disease and he makes it his life's work to find cures."

"And his son branches off to play with the brain," Wells said.

"All this tells me is that there's a good chance that the company searching for the endorsement is MW Corporation," Clarke tells the room. "The data isn't on any company letterhead, but I do see notes signed by 'L.T.' That could be Lorelei Tsing."

"It would make sense since they're touting it as an antipsychotic for schizophrenia," Quinn replied.

"And Dad was against both the drug and alliance. He just didn't have enough knowledge in regards to the drug to point out why the numbers looked off. Mom, didn't leave any notes in regards to her thoughts about it, but the weekly lunches could be Tsing's attempt to persuade her."

"The question now that we have this information," Quinn said, looking at everybody in the room, "is any of this worth killing Dad?"

"I hate to say it, but with the possible alliance divided like it is, his death could push Callie or Cuyler if they felt threatened," Wells said. "It could even get your mom to change her vote."

"That's only if someone leaks out that was why he was killed," Quinn pointed out. "The whole, if you don't vote this way then you'll end up like him, thing."

"If MW Corporation is desperate for the endorsement, then the same could be said for killing him," Bellamy said.

"So, both are a possible yes," Clarke said, feeling defeated. "We're no closer to figuring this out."

"We have two reasons to have Dad killed, Clarke," Quinn said gently. "That's two reasons we didn't have before. Our next step is to set eyes and ears in several places. Jaha's office because we need to know what they're talking about. I'd say the same for Pike and Sydney's offices. If they're pushing for the alliance, we need to know why. We also need them followed to find out who they're talking to besides Jaha. Lastly, we need a way to either dispel or confirm the rumors regarding _Trikru_."

"And the recruitment," Bellamy asked.

"Keep ears trained for any word about it. Photos if we can get them."

"We're going to need more people than the Delinquents," Clarke pointed out. "We're already rotating them to keep Charlie safe."

"Maybe, maybe not," Quinn told her thoughtfully. "I'll have to make some calls but I may be able to get some surveillance out here. Bugs and trackers. Unfortunately, that'll have to wait until this weekend. That's the soonest I'd be able to get everything we may need."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're scary, Quinn," Bellamy said, only half joking.

She gave him a weak smile, "A time or two."

"Then I'm glad you're on our side," Wells said, smiling slightly.

"No place I'd rather be, Wells," she told him truthfully.

"Okay," Clarke said, interrupting the moment. "Is that everything? Have we missed any talking points?"

"I think we're good for now," Quinn told her. "All we need is the information from Polis regarding the drug and what it's doing to the users. If we can get that before the meeting, we'll be able to shoot that down in a heartbeat. Strategically speaking, the alliance is too iffy. Too risky to allow. They're not offering anything worthwhile and their refusal to admit where those hidden people are coming from, those are red flags in my book."

"Then I think we should call it a night. We've all got things to do and places to be tomorrow."

"I can get with that plan," Bellamy said and stood up to stretch.

"Sounds good," Wells said as he stood. "We'll let you know if we hear anything new, Quinn."

"Do that, please," she said as she stood up and gave him a hug.

He returned the hug and then headed down the stairs. "Shit, wait a sec, Wells," Quinn said as she rushed down the stairs. He looked surprised until she gave him a smile and disarmed the alarm. "Wouldn't want to set it off this soon after getting it."

He chuckled and waved goodbye as he stepped into the warm summer night. Bellamy had come down behind her and gave her a hug before he was off and heading to his car. She closed the door and locked it behind her before heading upstairs.

She found Clarke picking everything up and went to help her. Silently, they had it cleaned up quickly.

"Are you going to stay here," Clarke asked as they lingered at the door.

Quinn nodded, "Yeah. As comfy as that couch is, I need a bed and a room."

"You know Charlie's going to be disappointed," she pointed out.

"She'll still see me every day and it's not like this is costing me anything."

"True. Our lunch reservation is at two tomorrow."

She raised her eyebrow in surprise, "Ooh, fancy. Do I need to dress up?"

Clarke smiled, "Yeah. Something nice."

She grimaced, "Then I'm gonna have to go shopping. I've got my Formals for Dad's funeral but nothing else."

"Maybe you could take Charlie with you," she suggested.

"I'll need a car."

"You can use Mom's. She won't be using it."

"Then I'll take Charlie with me," she promised.

"Quinn, go easy on her. She was only six when you left and you've hardly been home in the last ten years."

She sighed, "I know, I know. I promise that I'll spend some time with her. Let her get to know me besides all the stories she's heard."

"Good," she said with a smile. "Now, come downstairs and get your bag. I don't know what you packed in it, but damn, is it heavy."

Quinn chuckled and followed her down the stairs, "You need to go to the gym, Clarke. It'll help make lifting patients from gurneys to beds a whole hell of a lot easier. Keep you from throwing your back out too."

"I'll remember that," she said over her shoulder. "As soon as they invent more hours in the day and I'm not putting in ten-hour shifts on average."

"Better than twelve on, twelve off. Or double shifts."

"God, I hate those," she said as she popped the hatch open. "Some of the staff think that all residents want more hours and because I'm pretty and blonde that I'm dumb enough to take them."

"Give them Mom's death glare," she said with a smile and grabbing her bag. "That should scare them away. Worked with some of those boys you tried to bring around."

"Very true," she said with a laugh. "So, I'll see you at breakfast?"

Quinn nodded, "I'll be there."

"Good," she said and gave her a hug. "Sleep well."

"You too," she said and headed back to the building. She paused to go inside as she waited for Clarke to drive away. When she couldn't see Clarke's car anymore, she headed inside, making sure to set the alarm before she headed upstairs.

She took her bag to the bedroom before locking the door and turning off the lights. She stopped for a long moment to stare at a blank wall and murmured, "Now, what the hell are you hiding behind this wall, Dad?"


	11. Chapter 11

The sleeping figure began to thrash under the covers of the opulent California King. Indecipherable mumbling escaping clenched teeth as hands clutched sheets. Abruptly, the thrashing body arched its back off the bed and a scream ripped from their throat. Pounding feet and a door being slammed opened as another scream erupted from the figure on the bed.

A woman in her late thirties ran to the bed and its occupant. Her normally braided dirty blonde hair wild from sleep. Hazel eyes filled with worry and determination as she wrapped the figure in her arms. Soothing words stumbled passed her lips as she contained the still thrashing figure hoping to ground them in reality. Her muscles strained and sweat began to slide down her back but she refused to loosen her hold.

After what felt like hours, the figure began to stop its thrashing and the screams fell to whimpers. The woman gathered the figure in a more comforting embrace and that sent them to sob uncontrollably and clutching the woman closer. The woman continued to speak soothingly into their hair as she rubbed soothing circles across their back.

The sobbing finally eased. Breathing and heart rate returned to normal. The woman released her hold only long enough to reach for a glass of water that was always kept on the nightstand next to the bed. She brought it to her ward's hands and with a mumbled thanks, it was soon drained.

"_Mochof, Onya_," a strained voice cracked.

Anya only hummed in reciprocation as she set the glass back on the nightstand.

"It was the same," the voice whispered, careful of their now sore throat. "Nothing but the memory of pain."

Anya brushed the wild chestnut hair away and laid a gentle kiss on their forehead, "We may never get those memories back, _striksis_. It's been seven years, Lexa."

Lexa sighed and leaned more into Anya, accepting the truth of her statement, "You are most likely right. Loathe that I am to admit it."

"Hey," she scoffed. "You don't have to make it sound like a burden to admit I am right."

Lexa fought the eye roll and decided to focus on something else, "You're wearing a nightgown. Can I presume you remained alone in your bed tonight?"

Anya rolled her eyes and shoved the slightly smaller woman away. Lexa chuckled even though it made her head hurt from the sound.

"I am not some fuckboy, Lex," Anya argued and settled herself under the covers beside Lexa.

"No, of course not," she replied sarcastically. "Just a bed partner every _other_ night. My bad."

Anya shook her head, "Not all of us are capable of turning a beautiful woman away. I don't know why you're adamant about refusing your body's natural carnal inclinations. It's criminal. Sacrilegious even."

Lexa looked at her incredulously, "Sacrilegious? Really? You're comparing sex to a religious experience."

Anya just shrugged and looked smug, "What can I say? When you're that good it's a crime to deny others of such a talent."

"_Shof op, Onya_," Lexa said, shoving Anya away. "You're horrible."

"Hey, you brought up my sex life. Not me," she argued with a pointed look.

"Ugh," she groaned and flopped back on the bed. "What time is it?"

"Just past four," Anya replied after looking at the clock on the nightstand. "You're not going back to sleep, are you?"

"No. You know I can't sleep after waking up like that," she huffed as she slid her hand over her face and wiping the remnants of tears away.

Anya sighed heavily, knowing the truth of that statement, "Gym in ten minutes?"

Lexa nodded against the pillow, "_Sha_."

Anya crawled out from under the covers, "Prepare to have your ass handed to you, Lexa."

Lexa huffed out a laugh, "In your dreams, _Onya_."

Anya just lifted a finger in the air as she walked out of the bedroom, leaving Lexa to get ready by herself.

Two hours later, both women were in the dining room as the staff served them breakfast. Lexa reading the through business reports as Anya read through the news. Both absently eating and drinking as their eyes scanned the words in front of them.

"_Jok_," Anya spat into the silence.

Lexa looked up at her with a quirked brow, "What is it?"

"Remember that explosion that happened in Arcadia Friday night," Anya asked instead and Lexa nodded. "They just released the names of the victims. One of them was Jake Griffin."

"_Jok_," Lexa bit out and ignored the papers in front of her to focus on her sister. "He was our only in."

Anya nodded grimly in agreement before taking a swallow of her coffee, "What do you want to do?"

Lexa steepled her fingers underneath her chin as she thought about the problem, "Is there anyone we can send in to suss out the climate?"

"That won't scream _Trikru_ as soon as they step within city limits," Anya questioned. "Short answer, no."

Lexa narrowed her eyes in thought, "Long answer?"

Anya sighed and leaned forward on her arms, "I don't have one yet."

Lexa leaned back, feeling frustrated, "Look into it."

"_Sha, Heda_," she replied.

Lexa nodded in acceptance and returned to her reports. Being the head of _Trikru_ and the CEO of a prosperous investment firm was not a responsibility that was easily juggled. She didn't know how she did it some days. It was always meant to be but hadn't been easy to accomplish. The words in front of her blurred as she fell into her memories.

A childhood filled with education and physical training under the guidance of her father, Gustus Woods. He had been grooming both his daughters to eventually take over _Trikru_. One of the oldest and largest crime syndicates in the nation. Though, in her youth she hadn't realized what he was doing or that her future had been set. Then one day it had all disappeared.

Lexa and Anya had been taken when they were in they were barely teens. Without warning. One day they were there and the next gone. Only to show up a dozen years later, broken, bloody, and no memory. After spending months recovering in a hospital, their father had been relentless in his questioning. Searching for answers that they couldn't provide. Even calling in favors with _Delfikru_ and utilizing their holistic approaches to unlocking the mind. Nothing worked and the only outcome were the incessant nightmares that left both women weak for a time.

They'd had to earn back their father's trust and prove their loyalty. It had been backbreaking but it had been done. Both women had risen through the ranks quickly and earned the respect from their people. They gained a reputation for ruthlessness but not heartlessness. Which was a good thing because barely a year after their return, Gustus Woods had been assassinated by an _Azgeda_ assassin.

Lexa had personally hunted the assassin down and delivered the death blow in front of her father's generals. With that one act, she had cemented her rightful claim to take control of _Trikru_. She became _Heda_, Commander, and Anya became her closest advisor and general. Then she began her quest to bring all the syndicates under one flag with _Trikru_ leading. Six years later, there were only four remaining outside her Coalition. _Azgeda, Boudalankru, Ouskejon kru,_ and _Skaikru_. Three of the most ruthless out of all the syndicates and one that had remained isolated since its inception.

Lexa would have let _Skaikru_ remain isolated but there was a new threat in her city and she did not have the means to combat it. Her people were being taken by an unknown threat. If any returned, they came back drugged out of their mind and extremely violent. The police and her _gonas_ were fighting these drugged creatures trying to contain the chaos, but it was a losing battle. _Skaikru_ were the only ones who had the knowledge and technology that might give her a way to combat this threat and win. Jake Griffin, one of the top members of _Skaikru_, had been the only one Lexa had deemed open enough to hear her proposal.

She didn't know what she was going to do now.

A ding drew her out of her thoughts and her eyes snapped to Anya. Anya lifted her phone from the table to read the message that had made the sound. Her brow creased in concentration as she read the message. She quickly typed a reply before turning her attention to Lexa.

"Lincoln's coming home," Anya said with a frown.

Lexa frowned as well, "Why? He still has three months on his deployment and there's no reason for him to come."

Another ding sounded and Anya looked down at the phone. She read it, confused, "His CO is making him take leave. Something about a rough mission and needing to regroup."

"Well, whatever the reason, it'll be good to have him home," Lexa replied, leaning back in her chair. "I've missed the teddy bear."

Anya smiled as she replied, "Ain't that the truth. Uncle Nyko will be ecstatic to have him home."

"True," she sighed and gathered up her papers. "We've lounged long enough. Work awaits, Anya."

Anya nodded and reluctantly stood up, "What do you say about lunch at Grounder's?"

Lexa nodded in return, "It's been a while since we've eaten there. I could stand to eat some venison."

"I'll make reservations then," she said as they headed to their bedrooms.

With that, they got ready for the day before heading to their home away from home. Polis Tower.


	12. Chapter 12

Lexa sat behind her office desk, slowly making her way through a small pile of contracts awaiting her approval. She reached for the mug of coffee absently and took a swallow. Immediately, she grimaced in disgust only now realizing that it had long grown cold. She flicked her tongue out trying to dispel the gross taste and shoved the mug as far away from her as possible. Focusing back on the contract, she picked up her pen and began scribbling notes along the margins and slowly becoming enthralled in her work.

A knock came but it didn't register at first. Not until a loud bang and the door opening made her jump slightly. She scowled with a growl in her throat and scathing words on her lips for whoever dared interrupt her.

"I knocked," Anya said, ignoring Lexa's scowl as she came into the office. "Many times. It's not my fault you lost yourself in whatever you're doing."

"Still doesn't give you the right to bang like that on my door," Lexa growled out. "What are you doing here?"

Anya rolled her eyes, "Did you forget our plans for lunch? Grounder's?"

Lexa blinked having forgotten and checked the time. It was already after one in the afternoon. Which meant that she'd been sitting in her office reading through emails and contracts for too many hours.

"What time is the reservation," Lexa asked setting the pen she had been gripping down and flexing her fingers.

"1:45," she answered quickly. "We'll make it if we leave now."

Nodding, she stretched her arms overhead and rolled her neck. Standing, she stretched out even more before she grabbed her jacket and put it on.

"Great," Lexa said as she moved around the desk. "I'm starving."

Anya smirked, "Of course you are. Breakfast was before the sun was fully risen. Have you moved at all since coming in?"

Lexa rolled her eyes as they walked out of the office, "I got coffee earlier."

"No, your assistant got coffee for you," Anya argued as they entered the elevator and headed to the parking lot. "Don't forget. I know you, Lex."

"Whatever. Don't argue with me. I'm your boss," Lexa said as she leaned against the back of the elevator.

"And I'm your sister. I can argue with you if I want. Family perk," she said, crossing her arms across her chest and staring at Lexa defiantly.

"That's the only reason you're still alive, _skrishmelon_," she countered.

"Really? You're calling me names now," Anya said, glaring at her. "I'm just showing sisterly concern. Making sure you don't go blind reading over those damn contracts or grow a fat ass from sitting down all day."

"I don't have a fat ass," she said as the elevator stopped.

"Because I interrupt your day and make sure you move," she pointed out as they moved to the waiting SUV. "You should be thanking me. Not threatening to kill me."

"Get in the car," Lexa said, leveling a glare at her sister. "We have a reservation, remember?"

"I'm not the one who forgot," Anya said as she got in.

"God, you're impossible today," Lexa said as she joined her.

"I am not impossible. I'm just making valid points that you're becoming a workaholic."

"Whatever," she said, shutting the argument down before giving instructions to their driver.

Lexa pointedly ignored Anya by taking out her phone and scrolling through more emails. Anya let out a low groan at Lexa's actions and took out her own phone. The ride to the restaurant was silent as both women ignored one another.

They didn't come to their senses until the car stopped and the door to the front passenger opened. Anya stepped out first once the guard opened the back door and she stepped to the side to look around. The street wasn't crowded but people were moving about heading to one of the many restaurants and cafes that lined the street.

Looking at the restaurant in front of her, she was met with windows showing off a modern interior and the word, "Grounder's" in a playful script above a set of double glass doors. A nudge in her side brought her out of her inspection and she followed Lexa up the short set of stairs leading to the double doors. A doorman opened one of them and bowed at the waist slightly seeing them.

Even though they were in business attire, their intricate braids easily identified them as the Commander of _Trikru_ and her advisor. With that knowledge came the respect that was received from nearly all the citizens of Polis. They barely had time to take in the grays of exposed stone and whites of marble before they were being escorted passed the bar and into the main seating room. To offset the gray and white of the walls, the tables were a dark stained wood and the chairs were a deep red while looking quite comfortable to sit in. They were seated far enough from the entrance to not be jostled while at the same time giving them a full view of everyone coming into the restaurant. It also allowed them their much deserved privacy.

They chatted about work matters as they perused the menus and nearly deciding at the same time. The menus had barely set on the table when a smiling young waiter was at their side ready to take their order. Lexa ordered a venison steak, medium rare, with wild greens to be paired with a sweet merlot. Anya, on the other hand, ordered a grilled salmon over wild rice paired with a pinot noir. They both ordered the house salad with red-wine vinaigrette. Once the waiter had left with their order, they fell back into light conversation to pass the time.

Lexa was raising a forkful of salad when a bright reflection caught her eye. She paused with the fork mid-motion and looked towards the entrance of the restaurant. A head of blonde hair that reflected gold caught her eye and her gaze traveled down to reveal a buxom woman in a form fitting, spaghetti strapped, sapphire blue dress that ended at the knees. Her eyes traveled the remaining length of the woman and witnessed shapely calves and feet encased in a pair of two-inch heels.

From the distance, the woman was stunning and Lexa unabashedly continued to stare as the woman remained oblivious. She watched as the woman moved elegantly further into the restaurant and turned her head away to address someone behind her. Lexa's eyes moved to follow the blonde's head and was met with another blonde. This one taller with extremely tanned features and a head of short platinum blonde hair. The second blonde wore a form fitting, charcoal gray suit that accentuated her muscular frame. Lexa noticed that while the first blonde seemed more relaxed and at ease in the atmosphere of the restaurant, the second one continuously looked around with a tenseness that bore signs of uneasiness. This made Lexa frown slightly.

Anya saw that Lexa hadn't moved in a good thirty seconds and nonchalantly turned to find what had caught her sister's attention. She saw the two blondes and with a knowing smirk turned back to Lexa.

She cleared her throat loud enough to be heard by Lexa and at the same time kicked her shine lightly to draw her attention. Caught staring, Lexa blinked and immediately brought the fork to her mouth and bit down on the greens that had somehow remained on it.

Anya chuckled which earned a light glare from Lexa before her attention was back on the blondes.

"See something you like, Lex," Anya teased. "I never took you for someone to go after the bleached blonde, tanning bed type."

Lexa scowled at her, "That look does make her stand out, but that's not why she has my interest."

"Oh, so, you are interested," Anya said, her smirk widening as she leaned an elbow on the table. "Do tell me, sister dear. Why does that fake Barbie interest you?"

Lexa rolled her eyes at the description of the tall blonde, but answered anyway, "It's her body language, An. It's nervous. Like she's unsure she should be here. While the other blonde seems completely at ease."

Lexa glanced at the two women who were now making their way in their general direction. Then by chance, she met the blue eyes of the tall blonde and it was like a shock went through her system. There was the tiniest amount of recognition before it vanished. She watched as the blonde's eyes widened in shock before narrowing, her mouth parting slightly and she paused. Lexa saw the woman's eyes roam over her and Anya quickly. It was all over in less than a second and then she was moving again, her gaze moving around the interior once more.

"The fuck," Lexa whispered to herself.

"What," Anya caught the whisper and looked at the two blondes again. "Do you know them?"

Lexa shook her head, "I don't…I'm not sure. I could have sworn there was something, but it's gone now." She sighed and leaned back slightly. "If it's something, it'll come to me. Just ignore them and let's enjoy our lunch, hmm?"

Anya spared them one last glance and noted where they sat before she turned back to her own salad, "I don't recognize either of them. The buxom blonde, though. She's definitely your type."

Lexa snorted, "Of course, you would focus on that. I don't need help in that department, An. I can do fine on my own if that's what I was looking for."

"And that's your problem," Anya stated, pointing at her with her fork and dripping vinaigrette just outside her bowl. "You're not looking. Come on, Lex. It's been nearly four years. You were dumped. Get over it and get back on that damn horse again."

"I wasn't dumped," Lexa growled. "Costia disappeared without a trace. Just like we did."

Anya gave a long suffering sigh and then pointed at the buxom blonde, "That is a beautiful woman over there. She obviously has taste if she's eating here. She looks relaxed and has even gotten her friend there to unbend. If someone like that can get fake Barbie to enjoy herself, she could probably get you to loosen up. You work too damn much and if you continue, you're either going to have a heart attack or send yourself to an early grave. I'm not saying to go out there and get a girlfriend. I'm just saying that there is more to life than work. God, you're even getting stress wrinkles."

Lexa frowned making her brow furrow.

Anya immediately reached out and put a finger over the line that had formed between her brows, "See. That right there is proof enough."

Lexa swatted her finger away and huffed in irritation, "Stop that, An. Look, I'll cut you a deal. Once we figure out a way to stop this current situation, I'll take a vacation. Some isolated tropical island far enough away that I can't get cell service or internet. I drink fruity alcoholic mixes and stare at scantily-clad women for a week. How does that sound?"

Anya frowned slightly, "Only a week? You've been working nearly non-stop for four years. Four weeks. One week for every year."

"Two weeks and I'll let you come with whatever flavor you're currently indulging in," she countered. "Final offer."

"Fine," Anya grumbled. "You've got a deal. We fix this mess and then you go on vacation for two weeks."

"Good," she replied just as the waiter brought out their main course.

They waited silently while the waiter took their salads away and laid their main course in front of them with a flair. They smiled politely and thanked him. He bowed and left them to their meal. Their conversation died as they indulged in the delicious meal in front of them. Lexa kept glancing at the two blondes and noticing every movement they made.

She could admit that she found the buxom blonde beautiful and just watching her gave her a sense of calm. It was strange. Her eyes followed the woman's hand movements and found it slightly mesmerizing.

The other blonde was also attractive, just not someone she would willingly take to bed. If that was what she was interested in pursuing. Which she wasn't. She was just admiring a beautiful woman enjoying a nice lunch.

A few times she had caught the tanned blonde looking in their direction, deep blue eyes narrowed in thought and a slight frown on her face. But the other blonde would say something and her attention went away immediately. That made Lexa frown as her mind tried to figure out why there was a short spark of recognition when their eyes had met the first time. It was like her brain was telling her that she knew who this person was, but at the same time, the memories just weren't there. And after waking up from that nightmare of pain, it made it more frustrating.

Eventually, the meal finally ended and she knew that it had been one of the best venison steaks she'd had in a while. Anya paid for the meal since it was her idea and as soon as the waiter was back with her receipt, they got up to leave.

"I'm going to step outside and have them bring the car around," Anya said abruptly. "Why don't you go introduce yourself to the blonde while you wait?"

Lexa started and stared at Anya, "What?"

Anya pointed to where the buxom blonde was now making her way to the bar, "You know the blonde that you kept staring out during lunch. Introduce yourself. Be your charming self and make a lasting impression. Give yourself an up close personal view of what is definitely GEC from this angle."

"Seriously, Anya," Lexa snapped at her. "Now that's all I'm going to see when I pass her."

"You're welcome," she smirked and headed out the door.

Lexa grumbled and felt a slight blush rise as she walked up to the bar to wait for her car. Because, now, that was _all_ she thought about as she tried to nonchalantly lean against the bar and surreptitiously glance at the buxom blonde. Then her elbow slipped and she stumbled slightly when she heard the blonde's husky voice.

"Oh, shit! Are you okay," the blonde looked at Lexa in alarm.

Lexa felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she tried vainly to play it off. She cleared her throat and straightened her jacket and tie while reassuring the blonde, "Yes, of course. I think I've been at my office too long and forgot what spatial reasoning was."

The blonde chuckled and it sent a shiver of delight down Lexa's spine and pool in the depths of her belly.

"Here you go, miss," the bartender said, interrupting them.

"Thank you," the blonde replied and toyed with the drink as she looked back over at Lexa. "Usually I have to down several drinks to forget how far on object is from me."

Lexa made a show of watching where her elbow was placed on the bar which made the blonde smile.

Lexa returned the smile with a small one of her own and tilted her head towards the drink, "Is that your attempt to render objects to such a state?"

The blonde looked down at the glass that held a thumb's width of gold liquid and then back at Lexa, "Afraid not. My sister asked me to get this for her. She had a bit of a rough morning."

Lexa replied sincerely, "I'm sorry to hear that. Was this lunch an attempt to lift her spirits with some of the best dining in Polis?"

She laughed, "You have a high opinion of this place."

Lexa shrugged nonchalantly, "I only speak the truth. This is the only place I will come to when I am in the mood for a good venison steak."

"That sounds delicious," the blond replied. "I did greatly enjoy their chicken paired with an exquisite merlot. But I digress. To answer your question, this was meant to be a celebration of her latest promotion and because I haven't seen her since Christmas."

"You don't see each other often," Lexa asked, keenly interested in the blonde's answer.

The blonde fidgeted with the glass and smiled at her sadly, "Not as often as we'd like. She's been overseas and is only home to help out on a personal matter."

Lexa nodded in understanding, but before she could say anything the blonde's sister showed up and frowning down at her phone. The blonde looked up and started seeing Lexa standing at the bar, but quickly schooled her features. If Lexa hadn't been watching intently, she would have missed it.

"Thanks, Clarke," the taller blonde said as she took the glass and quickly downed the drink.

"Better," Clarke said, turning her attention away from Lexa.

"Yeah," she replied, nodding. "That was the hospital. They can finally release Dad's body."

"Great," Clarke chirped. "We should get going then. We still need to swing by work before we head home."

"Yeah, we do. Do you want to stop by your apartment first and grab a few more things," the taller blonde asked.

Clarke sighed, "I need to get my mail, so yes. We'll swing by there first since it's on the way."

She nodded and Clarke turned back to Lexa to give her an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry."

"No worries," Lexa said, straightening to her full height. "Anya should have the car by now and I have to be getting back to work."

"Well, thank you for keeping me company. I'll have to try the venison next time I come here. It was nice meeting you…" Clarke held out her hand.

Lexa shook it, "Lexa. It was a pleasure meeting you, Clarke. I promise that you won't be disappointed with the venison."

"Lexa," Clarke said and the sound of her name rolling off the blonde's tongue did something to her. "I like that name."

"Clarke," the taller blonde said a little impatiently.

Clarke rolled her eyes and winked at Lexa, "Alright, Quinn. You complain about my lack of a social life and when I finally enjoy a conversation with a stranger, you nip it in the bud. Make up your mind."

They began walking away as the taller blonde, Quinn, retorted, "Well, if you hadn't insisted on driving to a different town to eat lunch we wouldn't be under a time crunch. Or work in a different town, for that matter."

Just as the two blondes walked through the door, still bickering, Anya was coming back in. She glanced at them before moving to Lexa and looking at her expectantly.

Lexa just rolled her eyes and started walking outside.

"Well," Anya asked a little impatiently.

"Her name's Clarke," Lexa answered knowing that Anya wasn't going to let it go. "They came here to celebrate the tall blonde's recent promotion."

"A name is good," Anya said as they got in the SUV. "Anything else?"

"The tall blonde's name is Quinn. She works overseas and their father just died. Clarke works here in Polis but came from another town nearby. That's all I know."

"Hey, that means there's a chance to see the buxom blonde again," Anya replied with a smirk.

Lexa just rolled her eyes, "I want to stop by the hospital and speak with Uncle Nyko. See if there's been any news about the drug that's invaded our city."

Anya nodded, "Sounds like a plan. We have the meeting with the ambassadors tomorrow morning. If Uncle Nyko has any new information, we can see if _Floukru_ can give us any insights."

"I still think _Skaikru_ is our best option in regards to the drug, Anya," Lexa said as she pulled out her phone and began going through her email. "_Floukru_ is our best source of homeopathics. I'm not sure their knowledge will be able to shed light on it, but it won't hurt to ask."

"Maybe there's been a breakthrough on the case. It has been a couple of weeks since we last checked on it," Anya stated.

Lexa sighed and leaned her head back in frustration, "I am not going to hold my breath on there being a breakthrough. The disappearances are random and frequent. We just don't have the personnel to patrol the streets."

"We might be able to get _Trishanakru_ and _Sangedakru_ to lend us a few people," Anya suggested.

Lexa nodded, "We'll see."


	13. Chapter 13

"I'm just saying that it wouldn't hurt you to be courteous to your neighbors, Clarke," Quinn said as they entered the emergency room of Polis hospital.

"I am courteous to my neighbors," Clarke continued to argue.

They had been arguing about Clarke's interactions or lack thereof with her neighbors for the past ten minutes. Ever since they had left Clarke's apartment building, Quinn had been lecturing her about being nicer to the people in her building.

"I don't stick my nose in their business, and they leave me alone," Clarke said. "That's courteous."

Quinn rolled her eyes and bit into one of the many cookies she had been given by one of Clarke's neighbors, "I don't know what that is, but that's not being a good neighbor. I'm just pointing out that by not knowing who your neighbors are can be dangerous. What if one of them is a closeted serial killer? Or your future spouse? Or a family member of a future spouse? If you're nice to them and something happens, they'll most likely go out of their way to help. It's a solid practice."

"Really," Clarke scoffed. "A serial killer? Future spouse? Are you trying to make me run for the hills? And did you really have to talk to Mrs. Flannery? That woman gives me the creeps."

"Mrs. Flannery is a sweet old lady," Quinn argued. "She's led an interesting life. If you'd bothered to talk to her for five minutes, you'd know that. Plus, she gave me cookies. You know I'm a sucker for cookies, and these are damn good."

"Well, I wouldn't know because you won't let me have one," Clarke said, glaring at her sister.

Quinn tucked the cookie tin on the other side of Clarke and glared back, "Because you all but growled at Mrs. Flannery. I'm not gonna share my hard-earned prize with a meanie like you."

She scoffed in indignation and turned to the receptionist who was trying hard to hide the smile on her face, "Hey, Vicky. Is Dr. Olsson on shift today?"

Still trying to hide her amusement at the bickering siblings, Vicky answered, "Yes, but he's with a couple of people right now. Do you need me to page him?"

Clarke waved her off, "Nah. I just wanted to know if there were any new developments. Can you keep an eye on my soon-to-be diabetic sister while I get some things from my locker?"

"Hey, these are purely organic oatmeal raisins," Quinn cried out indignantly. "They're like the healthiest cookies out there. And I don't need a babysitter."

Clarke rolled her eyes, "You get in trouble just walking out the front door, Q."

"I do not."

"Don't worry, I'll keep your sister company," Vicky said, flashing a smile at Clarke before it became slightly flirtatious as she looked at Quinn.

"Thanks, Vicky," Clarke said and glared at Quinn before saying, "Stay out of trouble. This won't take me long."

"Whatever," Quinn huffed and rolled her eyes as she leaned against the reception desk. "Don't get distracted. I want to be back in Arcadia before five. Phone calls to make, you know?"

Clarke waved her off as she began walking further into the hospital, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just eat your damn cookies."

Quinn smirked at Clarke's retreating back and, in a fit of childishness, loudly asked, "Vicky, would you like a cookie? They're really good."

Holding out the open tin in Vicky's direction, Quinn saw Clarke flip her the bird and laughed before looking at Vicky. Out of courtesy, Vicky took one before placing it on a paper towel for later. The two women fell into easy conversation as Quinn took an opportunity to take in the emergency room.

As they had driven up to the hospital, Quinn had seen that Polis Hospital had been around for quite a few decades. It wasn't as modern or sleek as Arcadia General, but it had its own architectural charm. Stepping into the emergency room, she could see that there were attempts to modernize the interior and upgrade the equipment. But once again, Arcadia General was better equipped than Polis and far cleaner in comparison. The biggest difference between the two was the staff. Quinn's few times in her mother's hospital, she had observed that the staff were impersonal and almost clinical at times. Whereas, Polis staff were warm and inviting from what she could see between their interactions with patients and visitors. It made her wonder if _Trikru_ was in any way involved with the hospital and how that would affect Clarke continuing her residency here.

As she was talking with Vicky, a voice caught her attention. Glancing in that direction, she saw the two women from the restaurant. They were speaking with a bear of a man in a doctor's coat. She had known them to be members of _Trikru_ when she had seen them at the restaurant. Their intricate braids giving them away and if memory served her, were high up in the hierarchy.

That had set her on edge, and she found herself watching them as unobtrusively as possible while both parties ate their meal. Even going so far as to catch the eye of the brunette with intense green eyes a few times. It didn't help that there was something familiar about both women, but even with her impeccable memory, she was having a hard time placing them. The only thing she could be sure of was that she knew them outside the realm of their respective syndications. That only left two places she could know them from, high school, and she played against them in a sport or the military. Being that they were _Trikru_ meant that they were combat trained from an early age, which made it harder to discern an obvious military background.

Not getting anywhere with her memories, she decided to get closer. She politely excused herself and made her way over to where the three of them had ducked into a room. She leaned against the wall and pulled out her phone to hide her true intentions. Straining her hearing, she could just make out the conversation being had inside the room. Hearing _Trigedasleng_ only cemented, further in her mind, that they were _all_ members of _Trikru_, which meant that they did have some involvement with the hospital.

"_You still haven't found a way to counteract the heart failure, Uncle Naikou_," an unfamiliar familiar female voice asked. "_Even with the additional medicines we've brought in_."

A deep rumbling voice, Quinn assumed it was this Uncle Nyko, answered, "_No. The medication we have available is not strong enough to successfully counteract the withdrawal. Whatever is in the drug places a great strain on the heart and mind. We can't keep the patients sedated long enough to use the machines necessary to get an accurate readout of what chemicals are being produced and how it's affecting the brain and heart. Without that information, we cannot successfully wean them off without relying on defibrillators._"

"_What do you need_," another female voice asked in an authoritative tone. Quinn quickly placed it as the woman who had introduced herself as Lexa.

"_Consultations with a better team of cardiologists and neurologists, Heda_," Nyko stated plainly and made Quinn start.

She hadn't heard that term in a very long time, but then she relaxed as she remembered that the leader of _Trikru_ was referred to as _Heda_ or Commander in English. She shoved old and painful memories away to concentrate back on the conversation.

"_I swear we're doing everything we can to get to the bottom of this, Uncle_," the other female was saying.

"_We've got a meeting with the ambassadors tomorrow morning, Naikou_," Lexa said. "_Now that we have a more diverse group, we can expand our research. Just continue to do what you can_."

"_Sha, Heda_," Nyko replied.

The conversation became too quiet for her to listen in on, and she sighed at the loss. She moved away from the room and began pacing slightly as she began to think about what she had overheard. From the sounds of it, _Trikru_ needed outside help to stop the problem, and it just so happens that _Skaikru_ could provide it. They knew who was taking the people from Polis and injecting them with the drug. They also had one of the top cardiologists in the form of her mother. If anyone could figure out the heart issue, it would be her. Not to mention, she had an in with some of the top specialists in most medical fields.

Quinn wondered why the Commander hadn't approached _Skaikru_ for a temporary alliance. Both of her parents would have felt obligated to reach out a helping hand. Her father especially. He had a reputation for having a bleeding heart. Her mother, on the other hand, was smart enough to know that the data Dr. Tsing was providing could have only come from human trials. Clarke hadn't even finished her residency and had seen it quickly. And if her mother knew the truth about the data and was still pushing to gain the endorsement, that made Quinn question her motives. She wanted to believe that her mother wasn't one to disregard the ethical treatment of patients, but her motives were circumspect.

A voice calling out her name drew her out of her thoughts, and she squinted in the direction to see Clarke making her way to her. She relaxed, seeing Clarke unharmed and patiently waited for her.

Clarke looked at her sister, concerned to see her pacing, but saw nothing in her demeanor that looked worrying. She saw the shoulders slump and posture relax, which made her think she was just worried about Clarke's safety, which was understandable now knowing that she was working in a city owned by a crime syndicate and that her own family was part of a different one.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she asked, "Everything okay, Q?"

Quinn nodded and gave her a reassuring smile, "Yeah. Just thinking about everything. Making the funeral arrangements and the meeting tomorrow. Did you find what we need?"

Clarke waved a folder at her, "Yep. This corresponds with the data from the proposal. It proves what we figured out."

"Good. That means that we can put a stop to both proposals with irrefutable arguments. That'll give us some breathing room," Quinn said.

"But it could end up putting targets on our backs," Clarke said, worriedly.

"You're right, but one problem at a time, okay," she was quick to reassure her. "We'll hold a small meeting tomorrow to get updates and plan what we're going to say at the big meeting. Tonight, we'll just focus on family."

"I'll think Charlie and Mom will appreciate that," Clarke said, smiling slightly as they headed towards the waiting area.

An alarm went off, and Clarke cursed, handing the folder to Quinn.

"What's going on," Quinn asked, following Clarke who was making her way to the ambulance bay.

"They're bringing in an erratic patient," Clarke said over her shoulder. "Stay back, Quinn."

Quinn stopped following as staff began to rush towards the doors that led to the ambulance bay, some toting equipment behind them. A tremendous roar sounded as a cacophony of voices started yelling out orders. EMTs and staff strained to wheel a gurney into the ER proper as the person currently on top of it fought the restraints holding them down. And Clarke was right in the middle of it, barking out orders with authority. Quinn would have taken a moment to let pride fill her seeing her sister in her element, but the way the inbound patient was acting only made her fearful.

Suddenly the sound of ripping nylon reached her ears, and the patient had become loose enough to topple the gurney. The staff toppled with it and became a big pile with Clarke somewhere in the middle.

"Shit," Quinn cried out as she stuck the folder and cookie tin in a corner before jumping in after her.

She yanked people off the pile, desperate to reach Clarke. She found her fighting to keep the drugged-out man away from her. The man seemed intent on biting Clarke with his teeth snapping, spittle dripping down, and snarling. Quinn wrapped her arms under his armpits and up around to grasp her hands behind his head. With a grunt, she heaved him backward and falling to the ground so that she could wrap her legs around the man's.

The man continued to thrash about, and Quinn felt her muscles strain to keep him as immobile as she could.

"Anytime people," Quinn yelled out as the man somehow lifted them both and slammed her into the floor and smacking Quinn's head hard against the linoleum.

That seemed to get people moving again. Clarke scrambled to her knees and started searching the mess on the floor for sedatives. She heard the unmistakable sound of a head colliding with linoleum and heard Quinn cry out in pain.

"Goddammit, someone help her restrain that man before he knocks her out," Clarke barked.

Two more bodies collided with Quinn and the man. Their combined weight and hold keeping him from lifting off the ground again. Clarke found what she was looking for and moved to the man's head. Seeing no other option, she shoved the man's head to the side, exposing his carotid artery and shoved a needle into his neck. She plunged the sedative straight in and quickly did it twice more.

The man continued to fight for a few more seconds before his body gave a slight shudder, and his eyes rolled in the back of his head, falling unconscious. Everybody let out a collective sigh of relief. Clarke tapped the people on top of the man and Quinn to signal they could get off.

That was when Clarke saw exactly who had come to help as she stared into forest green eyes.

They looked at each other for a long moment before Clarke found her voice and simply said, "Lexa."

Lexa responded in kind, "Clarke."

They continued to stare at one another until the second helper said, "Seriously?"

That made them both blink and fight down the subsequent blushes.

Quinn let out a low groan, and Clarke quickly called out, "Someone want to remove him from my sister, please. And make sure that you double his restraints when you get him to a bed. One of the ones we've bolted to the floor."

Several big nurses came and lifted the man off Quinn, who let out another groan as the weight was finally off her. Clarke immediately went to her and helped her sit up slowly.

"Easy, Q," Clarke said. "Can you stand? We need to get you checked out."

"'M fine, C," Quinn replied as she tried to stand up, but her legs gave out under her.

"Yep, nope, you're not fine," Clarke said and signaled another staff member. "Come on, dumbass."

Together they got her up and headed to a bed. Lexa and Anya stayed where they were on the ground catching their breaths. Anya looked around and saw a bloodstain on the ground. She nudged Lexa and pointed it out.

Lexa reached out confusion and suspicion building and swiped a finger through the blood. Bringing it close, she saw something that she had only seen one time before. The blood was black.

"_Sheidjus _(night blood)_, Onya_," Lexa said, showing her the now bloody finger.

"_What the hell? Who are these people_," Anya asked.

"_I don't know. But now I know there's a reason why I felt that jolt of recognition. Come on. We can get some more information disguised as concern_," she said and stood up.

Anya held up a hand and rolling her eyes, Lexa helped her up. They followed the two women but stopped just on the other side of the curtain.

"What the hell, Quinn," Clarke screeched. "Why is your blood black?"

"Could you not yell at my patient, Dr. Griffin," a male voice interrupted, somewhat sternly.

Lexa could almost hear the eye roll as Clarke replied in a strained voice, "My apologies, Dr. Adams. The last time I saw my sister bleed was at a hockey game in high school, and she did _not_ bleed black then."

"Sorry, C, but's classified," Quinn's voice slurred out.

"Classified?! Classified!"

"Dr. Griffin, if you are going to continue to yell, I am going to have to ask you to wait outside," Dr. Adams threatened her.

"Fine," she growled out, and the curtain suddenly snapped open, startling everyone. Clarke's demeanor immediately deflated, and she looked at the two women in confusion, "Lexa? What are you doing here?"

Lexa looked beyond Clarke and saw Quinn narrowing her eyes at her in suspicion. She quickly refocused on Clarke and cleared her throat, hoping to waylay some of the suspicions, "Anya and I were just coming to see how your sister was. That was a rather nasty altercation back there."

Clarke sighed and glancing at Quinn over her shoulder, stepped past the partition, and closed the curtain again. Stepping away and giving a slight hand movement to have her follow, they moved from the bed.

Clearing her throat, Clarke said, "It was. Unfortunately, this is typical for what we see here. This new drug that's hit the streets creates very volatile and unpredictable addicts. Thank you for stepping in and helping us. I don't know what I would have done if Quinn had been more seriously injured. She's our rock."

"Are you both in the habit of diving into danger headfirst," Anya asked, her tone chastising.

Clarke looked down sheepishly and missed Lexa glaring at the dirty blonde. Anya just looked at her unimpressed.

"What Anya means to say is that we are glad to have been able to help," Lexa said, still glaring at Anya but quickly adopted a more sincere gaze as Clarke looked up at her. "Since everyone else seemed too stunned to act."

Clarke gave her a smile that warmed Lexa's heart, "I guess that says a lot about the type of people we are."

"Yeah, reckless," Anya said, huffing in indignation.

Clarke laughed, and it was a beautiful sound to Lexa's ears, which forestalled her from hitting Anya again.

"Some would say that," Clarke agreed. "I'd call it courageous. Especially to get involved when you have no dog in the fight. I got involved because that's what I'm trained to do. Quinn probably saw me go down when the gurney collapsed, and well, she's always been like that. I think the military has made her worse."

"So that promotion you told me about," Lexa said, beginning to understand some things. "She…"

Clarke nodded and spoke a little pridefully, "She made Senior Chief last cycle. One of the youngest on record."

"That's impressive," she acknowledged.

"We think so," Clarke said and glanced back at the curtain that Quinn was behind. "I should get back and make sure that it's nothing more than a concussion. Everyone's gonna be pissed when they find out."

"I think they'll forgive her when they find out she was going after you," Lexa tried to reassure the blonde.

Clarke made a displeased face, "Yeah, but that'll just turn them on me. I'm supposed to be on a leave of absence and not getting involved. Either way, neither one of us is going to bed tonight unscathed."

"I'm sure you'll survive," Anya said drolly, already bored with the conversation.

Clarke nodded, "I'm sure we will. Um, thank you again for helping us."

"Of course, _Klark_," Lexa said, bowing slightly. "Our condolences on your father's passing. Jake will be missed."

Clarke nodded, "Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day, Lexa."

"Thank you," she replied and tugged Anya to leave.

Clarke made it back to the curtain before she realized that she had never mentioned her father's name. She turned to question the mysterious brunette, but they had already disappeared. So, she just shook her head and opened the curtain.

"You know Mom's gonna kill us," she said without preamble.

Quinn groaned, "When's the next flight to Rota?"

"I'll tell ya only if you let me come with you," she replied, moving to her sister's bedside. She looked at Dr. Adams, "How bad's the concussion?"

"Mild," Dr. Adams replied. "She's going to have a headache for a few days. Expect sensitivity to light and some nausea. You've seen injuries like this before so. You know the drill. Rest and monitoring to make sure her symptoms don't worsen. No extracurricular activities until the headache and blurry vision recede."

"There goes my roller derby game," Quinn joked.

"As if you'd be caught with roller skates on, Q," Clarke said, smacking her lightly on the arm. "Thanks for taking care of her, Dr. Adams."

The man nodded, "Of course. If it weren't for her, there would have been a lot more people injured trying to restrain him. As it was, only a few bruises from when Quinn started throwing people to get to you."

"I'm not apologizing for that," Quinn said, sitting up. "No one was moving, and the guy was trying to bite her. They're lucky I didn't do more than that."

"Easy, Quinn," Clarke laid a calming hand on her arm. "You stopped him from hurting me, and everything's under control now."

"Whatever," Quinn grumbled. "Can we go home now?"

Clarke looked at Dr. Adams for permission, who nodded, "Yeah, let's go home."

Clarke helped Quinn stand and wrapped an arm loosely around her waist to keep her steady. They made their way out of the ER and were nearly out the door when Quinn cried suddenly, "Cookies!"

Clarke looked at her, incredulously, "Seriously?!"

Quinn wanted to nod vigorously but refrained from keeping her head from hurting more, "Yes. Mrs. Flannery gave them special to me, and I want them. Plus, that folder is with them."

"Oh, shit, right," Clarke said and looked around. "Where'd you put them?"

Quinn pointed in the general direction, and leaving her leaning against a wall, Clarke went and retrieved the cookie tin and folder. Coming back, Quinn made gimme hands, and Clarke rolled her eyes before handing her the tin.

"God, you are such a sucker for cookies," Clarke said as they walked out of the hospital slowly.

"Damn skippy, C," she said, happily opening the tin and getting another cookie. "Here, you can have one. You deserve it for keeping that dude from going all _Walking Dead_ on your ass."

She took the offered cookie and bit into it, humming at the flavor, "I think I deserve a drink or three for going above and beyond my duties as a resident."

"Oh, that sounds good," Quinn agreed.

"Nope. None for you," Clarke said, smirking. "Head injuries are denied alcohol for at least twenty-four hours."

"Nooo," Quinn whined. "Then give me back that cookie. If I can't have a beer, you can't have cookies."

Clarke shoved the rest of the cookie in her mouth and mumbled around it, "Too late. It's on its way to my belly."

"You suck, C," Quinn grumbled.

"Oh, come on. You know you love me," Clarke cajoled her sister good-naturedly.

"Whatever. Just take me home," she replied petulantly.

"God, I forgot how much of a baby you are when you're hurt," Clarke said as she opened the passenger door for Quinn, handing the folder over after Quinn got settled.

"Fuck you," Quinn said as soon as Clarke was in the car.

Clarke just rolled her eyes and started the car. Soon they were back on the road to Arcadia. Neither girl noticing that they were being watched from the hospital entrance.

"Find out as much as you can on Quinn Griffin," Lexa ordered. "And find out if they're truly connected to the _Skaikru_ Griffins."

"_Sha, Heda_," Anya agreed before they climbed into the waiting SUV. "We'll find out why you and Quinn have the same blood."

_And if I just found out way to take advantage of Skaikru_, Lexa thought to herself as she stared in the direction Clarke had driven.


	14. Chapter 14

Lexa strode into the large conference room two floors below her apartment at Polis Tower. The eight ambassadors of the syndicates under her coalition stood in unison. Inwardly, she preened in pride, seeing their eyes lowered in respect. Outwardly, she was stoic and regal. Striding purposefully, she made her way to the head of the table, Anya directly to her right.

Pausing in front of her chair, she took a moment to look at each of her ambassadors before commanding, "Be seated."

The sound of clothing rustling and chairs being moved the only sound in the room. The ambassadors looked at her expectantly to start the meeting, and she did so promptly.

"Thank you for joining me this morning, Ambassadors," she spoke quietly but still held command in her voice. "I know that you each have busy lives within your syndicates, and I appreciate the time you've taken to attend. I am pleased to announce that since your leaders agreed to join my coalition, numbers have increased positively in all aspects. While at the same time, all territories have seen a decrease in problem areas. This is all thanks to your hard work in ensuring a commitment to work together. With that said, is there any new business that needs to be attended to?"

With her permission, each ambassador began to relay concerns their syndicates were having. Lexa sat back and allowed them to work any solutions between themselves and only interjecting when it started to become heated. In a matter of hours, most of the problems had been ironed out when Lexa was allowed to begin voicing _Trikru's_ issues.

Cyrus, ambassador for _Trishana_, stood up hesitantly and bowed slightly, "_Heda_, I wish to inform you and the others that something strange has begun occurring in _Trishana's_ territory."

"Oh," was Lexa's only response while leaning slightly forward in her seat.

Cyrus swallowed nervously as he looked about the room, "_Sha, Heda_. It seems that while a number of our homeless have begun to find work and are off the streets…a number of them have also been disappearing."

"Are you sure that they are not just leaving," Fredrick, the ambassador for _Yujleda_, asked.

Frowning slightly, Cyrus responded, "That is a possibility, and our people are looking into that. As I am sure that you have been informed, the city's housing department has been coordinating with the homeless shelters to keep an accurate census. The current numbers are disproportionate."

"How so," Lexa inquired.

Clearing his throat, he replied, "The shelters have reported a drop in those going to shelters. This would be a good thing if it were due to finding homes in low-income housing, but that doesn't seem to be the case. People who have long been regulars at shelters are no longer showing up. When they've checked with the housing department, their names are not on their lists. The volunteers at the shelters have inquired at the hospital, but nothing. Same with the police. They have even taken to the streets in search of these people. They have found some, but others have come up missing."

Lexa looked at him thoughtfully and asked, "Have any of those missing share anything in common?"

Cyrus looked down at a stack of papers in front of him, shuffled them a bit, and read one paper in particular before looking at her, "_Sha, Heda_. They were known to be solitary people with few interactions with others. According to the volunteers, those missing were known addicts with various vices. Most did not have a family."

Lexa nodded, "Loners, that would not be missed. As Fredrick pointed out, they may have simply left in search of whatever. Has your law enforcement become involved in the search, or have they written them off?"

Cyrus made a face of disappointment, "Though my leader has made great endeavors to work with city officials to clean up the city…it has only been a year since changes have begun. Antipathy is still predominant. That is why the head of the shelters approached my leader with this problem. There have been soft inquiries to nearby towns and cities outside our territory, but so far nothing."

"I do understand how difficult it is to change the mindset of city officials and workers," Lexa replied with a rueful grin. "It has not been that long since I had to deal with it in Polis. Even now, there are still occasional occurrences of antipathy and brutality from law enforcement. Change comes slowly, but I fully believe that each of our territories will eventually reach a mutual partnership between syndicates and city. But that does not help you now. By bringing this forward, what is it that you and your leader hope to accomplish, Cyrus?"

"One," Cyrus replied, "is to inform you and the other ambassadors of this strange happening. And two, to gently inquire if any of the other syndicates have noticed anything similar in their territories."

Lexa looked around the conference room, "Has there been anything like Cyrus described happening in your territories, ambassadors?"

Each ambassador exchanged looks before Maggie of _Louwoda Kliron_ raised her hand, "_Heda_, there have been reports of an increase in missing people in my territory. Though we have not looked to see if there are any commonalities like Cyrus has pointed to."

"As have we," Trent of _Sangeda_ spoke up. "Though my leader agrees with law enforcement that it is due to the rather harsh clime we live in."

Lexa glanced at Anya and saw a slight nod to encourage her, "This is disturbing news. Our business is to increase our profits and influence worldwide, and I hope that like myself, your leaders use the profits to better the people within their territories. With that in mind, I must also admit that people have been disappearing from Polis as well. But, in the same vein, some have returned but changed. They seem to have been given a new drug that, when under the influence, causes them to become very violent and unpredictable. The mortality rate is high. Those that have survived withdrawal frequently disappear to only return with it in their system again. The doctors at Polis Hospital have been working overtime to figure out this new drug and a detox program that drops the mortality rate. It has unfortunately been slow going."

"Does this new drug have a name, _Heda_," Derik of _Floukru_ asked, leaning forward slightly.

Lexa smiled inwardly, knowing that question would have been asked by him, "_Sha_. The doctors have mentioned that those brought in mumble something about 'Red.' As such, that is the name officials have begun calling it."

"You said that some of them have been able to live through the withdrawal of this drug," Derik stated. "Were they able to give any information?"

"Not as much as we would like," Lexa admitted, frowning slightly. "They have spoken of masked people and being strapped down. They have spoken of their experience while on the drug. They describe it as if they are observers, watching but unable to stop themselves from harming others. They also feel an insatiable need to get more. This drug is highly addictive and dangerous."

"Do you believe that the disappearances in other territories have something to do with this drug," he asked.

"It is too early to determine that, Derik," she admitted. "This is what is happening within Polis. I am working with those involved to find out who is behind this. Though it is suspect that three other territories are experiencing similar disappearances, I believe that even if the disappearances are not connected to this drug, we must work together to find out why our people are being taken and by whom. Would you all agree?"

With four out of the nine syndicates experiencing disappearances, it was decided unanimously that it should be taken seriously. Once that was decided, they each began trading ideas to find out what was behind it and offering help to locate the missing people. By the time Lexa finally called an end to the meeting, a tentative plan had been hashed out with ambassadors pledging personnel and expertise.

With a wave of her hand, the ambassadors stood as one and bowed their heads before leaving the conference room except for Anya and surprisingly, Derik.

"Derik," Lexa said with a touch of concern. "Was there something you wished to discuss privately?"

"_Sha, Heda_," he said, taking the seat opposite Anya. "I know that _Floukru_ prides itself on their homeopathic medicine, but I feel that in this instance, we may be inadequate. I am loathed to admit that Red may be out of our league of understanding."

"What are you saying, Derik. Speak plain," Anya replied frowning.

He nodded, "I am saying that to find a worthy detox program, the coalition may need to seek answers outside its realm of influence."

"And where would you suggest we look, Derik," Lexa asked giving him an impassive look.

"As you know, none of the syndicates have a healthy relationship with state or federal government," Derik explained carefully, knowing that he was treading thinly. "Except for one."

"_Skaikru_," was Lexa's only reply.

"_Sha, Skaikru_. Not only do they have the connections to seek solutions with the Department of Health and the FDA, but they also have the resources. _Skaikru_ has a firm grip on the latest medical advancements, especially medicine. They may also have the technology necessary to follow those that are taking our people," he finished explaining.

"Are you suggesting that _Heda_ seeks their help? That we cannot solve this without them," Anya sneered derisively.

Derik swallowed down fear, "I am not saying that we cannot solve this without them, but it could take more time than if we had their help. In that time, how many more will be taken? How many more territories will become a target in that time. How many more will die because of Red? I know it could be viewed as a weakness, but _if_ the people are truly your concern, should that matter?"

Lexa stood up from her seat and began to pace with her hands clasped behind her back, thinking on his words. Anya and Derik sat silently, waiting patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

She paused in her pacing to look at Derik, "I admit, the head of Polis Hospital's Trauma has made the same arguments. _Skaikru_ has a monopoly on the latest pharmaceuticals and technology. It gives your arguments merit, but _Skaikru_ remains resolute in isolation. They seek no alliance with any syndicate and have turned away any attempt to start a conversation."

"Right now, gaining a conversation with them will prove difficult," Anya stated as she looked at Derik. "They are dealing with the loss of one of their Three, Jake Griffin. By reputation, Jake Griffin was one of the more open-minded leaders most willing to listen to a proposal."

Derik frowned, "Has there been word on who will be replacing him?"

Lexa shook her head, "No, and until we learn of who it is and their stance, approaching _Skaikru_ is out of the question."

Derik leaned back in his seat, "I may have something that could at least get you an audience with their Chancellor, _Heda_. Regardless of who takes Griffin's seat on their council."

Lexa shared a look of surprise with Anya before sitting back down and leaning forward, "And that is?"

Derik sighed and leaned forward again, "I have been informed that _Skaikru_ has been attempting to acquire some of _Floukru's_ transportation contacts, docks, depots, and so on. In some instances, the attempts have been rather aggressive."

Lexa frowned, "Have there been any losses?"

Derik was quick to reassure her, "No, _Heda_. We have everyone's complete loyalty and have rebuffed in kind. The only losses have been on their side, which is the only reason why I have not brought it up in our meetings. But in the same vein, we have had to reallocate resources to protect those places. Resources that could be better served elsewhere."

"Lexa," Anya said, drawing her attention, "_jomp emo op en yu jomp oso op_. (attack them, and you attack us.) They're attempting to encroach on _Floukru's_ territory, and as an ally and head of the coalition, you have every right to demand a meeting. You let it be known that if they continue their attempts, not only would they have to deal with _Floukru_ but also the entirety of the coalition. They'd be stupid to push against us and be willing to repay for the reallocation of resources."

"Demand that they allocate their resources to help us stop whoever is taking our people and giving them Red," Derik agreed. "In payment for not appropriately approaching _Floukru_."

Lexa looked between them thoughtfully before answering, "Get me the information of where _Skaikru_ has attempted to gain control, Derik. I want damage reports, personnel loss, medical expenses, and reallocation costs. We'll give _Skaikru_ a short period of mourning before approaching them with this, but we will send them a message beforehand. Let them know they have been caught and are being watched."

"I can agree with that, _Heda_," he acquiesced.

"_Os_," she replied. "Was there anything else, Derik."

"No, _Heda_," Derik said, standing up. "I'll relay what we've discussed to Luna, and we'll begin to allocate what resources we can to help you."

Lexa gave him a small smile, "_Mochof_, Derik. Please remind her that she still owes me a case of wine from her vineyard."

Derik gave her a small chuckle, "I will, _Heda_."

He bowed and left the sisters alone in the conference room.

Anya looked at Lexa, "That was unexpected."

"It was, but this only gains us an opportunity to get _Skaikru's_ resources. I still want more information on the Griffin sisters, especially Quinn Griffin. I want to know what my connection is to her and our shared blood," Lexa said, giving Anya a steely look of determination. "Something tells me that she knows much more than anyone realizes."

"I'll get you your answers, Lexa. _Ai swega em klin_," Anya promised.


	15. Chapter 15

Clarke's nose scrunched as smells began to invade her sleeping mind. Her mind grasping onto the scents of fresh buttermilk pancakes, bacon, eggs, and coffee but with an underlying scent of cleaning products. In her barely conscious state, she stretched slow, toes curling before she relaxed to snuggle deeper under the covers with a satisfied sigh.

Noises began to filter in, and the sounds of breakfast reached her, the sound of sizzling fat with an occasional pop of grease. A spatula was moving inside a skillet or pan. And a voice. A voice that was speaking soft yet firm. It was a familiar voice, and it caused Clarke to frown as she shifted in her bed.

That's when memories of yesterday rushed forward, and Clarke was awake. Lunch at Grounders with Quinn. Their trip to her apartment. The hospital. The out of control drug addict brought in. The dogpile when the gurney fell. Fighting the addict's attempt to bite her face off. Quinn bodily heaving him off her and getting hurt in the process. And eyes of a verdant green forest that have haunted her since the restaurant.

Clarke groaned as she stretched more fully on the pull out couch that had served as her bed. She reluctantly opened her eyes and, with a sigh, pushed herself up against the back of the sofa. Looking back to the kitchen, Quinn was still on the phone, but it was tucked between her head and shoulder as her attention was on the stove. She sighed again and reached for her phone that was on the end table.

Unlocking it with a quick swipe of her finger, she checked her messages and emails. Nothing too important so, she shot off a few replies before turning to the mindlessness of social media. Unaware as she was lost in trivialities, she let out an undignified squeak when a coffee cup appeared in front of her. With a huff and glare at Quinn, she took it from Quinn's outstretched hand.

Quinn chuckled and sat down at the bottom of the bed, sipping her cup. Clarke set her phone aside and let the warmth of the cup seep into her hands before taking a tentative sip of her own.

"Who're you on the phone with," Clarke asked, settling herself more comfortably.

"Funeral Director of Ark Memorial," Quinn answered. "I've set up a meeting with him for Monday at two."

Clarke nodded, "Are they good?"

Quinn shrugged, "Dunno, but that's who Dad requested we use. He pretty much had everything written down already. Funeral Home, casket, flower arrangements, songs, epitaph."

"Don't tell me that it's something cheesy," Clarke groaned slightly, taking another sip.

Quinn chuckled and shook her head, "No. He's given us a few Arthur C. Clarke quotes to choose from. I've written them down so that Charlie can give her opinion. Bell too."

"Any way we can send them to Rae and O," Clarke asked, her heart hurt a little more that they wouldn't be at the funeral.

Quinn scrunched her brows in thought and then shrugged, "We've got their personal emails, and I've got Rae's Navy one. I can shoot them a quick email, but I don't know how soon they'll be able to get back to us."

"They should have a say, Quinn. They were as much his daughters as we are," she argued.

Quinn smiled, "You're right. I'll email them after breakfast."

"Thank you," she replied and took another sip of her coffee. "How's your head?"

"Much better after you stopped waking me up every couple of hours," she replied and stood up. "Breakfast is ready."

"You didn't have to make breakfast, Q," she said, unwrapping herself from the bedsheets.

Quinn just shrugged and headed over to the kitchen to grab the food.

"I'm serious, Quinn," she argued after seeing her sister being dismissive. "You're recovering from an injury. A _head_ injury. You shouldn't be putting yourself through unnecessary strain."

"I've had a lot worse injuries than a little bump on the head, C," Quinn retorted with a touch of exasperation. "This is nothing, and breakfast is hardly strenuous. Now, come on, food's getting cold."

Clarke walked over to the breakfast bar and sat on a stool. She watched as Quinn split the food evenly between them. Quinn stayed on the kitchen side and began to immediately dig in intent on ignoring everything in favor of food. Clarke let out a frustrated sigh and let Quinn deal with whatever had crawled up her ass in silence.

After a while, Quinn set her fork to the side and looked up at Clarke, "I'm not trying to downplay my injury, C. Or act flippantly. I _know_ yesterday scared you more than you're letting on."

"Of course it did," Clarke snapped back, slamming her fork down and glaring at her. "We just lost Dad. This isn't a fucking warzone, Quinn. You don't need to put yourself out there unnecessarily. Risking yourself like that."

Quinn scoffed, "I wasn't the only one risking myself, _Clarke_. You jumped in without regard to your own fucking safety! It wasn't your _job_ to get involved. You had no obligation. You should have let the staff on shift do their jobs."

"It _is_ my job, Quinn," she bit back. "_My_ obligation. I have been dealing with this for months. I knew exactly what I was doing. So did everyone there."

"That may be so, but it wasn't your fight. It wasn't _our_ fight," Quinn finished with a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through her hair. "Look, with everything going on, neither one of us can afford to act without thought. Yesterday was the epitome of reckless behavior. I just hope that they don't realize our connection to _Skaikru_."

Clarke's anger left in a rush as confusion hit her, "They? They who? What are you talking about, Quinn?"

Quinn leaned her hands on the kitchen counter in front of her and looked at her sister seriously, "_Trikru_. Those two that helped us were high ranking members of _Trikru_. If they find out who we are, it can complicate things."

Clarke frowned, "How?"

"It created a debt," she explained. "Nothing _Trikru_ does is free. They always get something in return, and it can be anything. And I mean _anything_. As Griffins and council members…it's like giving them a golden ticket to _Skaikru_. If they don't call on it in our lifetime, the debt passes down to the next generation."

Clarke blanched at the implication, "What if we refuse to honor it?"

"They can demand blood," she replied in all seriousness. "They're huge on honor. A handshake, verbal agreement, helping hand, it holds the same weight as a legal document. They've been known to go to war over broken promises."

"So, what can we do to avoid bloodshed," she asked, just as serious.

Quinn bit her lip in thought, "_If_ they connect us to the _Skaikru_ Griffins, the easiest is to repay the debt before they call us on it. Give them Dr. Tsing and the research we've done. That might appease them enough. How secure is your social media accounts?"

"Um," Clarke faltered at the change of questioning. "I've never really looked at it."

Quinn sighed, "First things first, we up the security on all your social media. As a member of the council, it's a smart move anyway. We'll get with Monty later and do that. We'll do the same to Charlie's accounts too."

"And second?"

"We convince the council to hand over the information to _Trikru_. None of Dad's notes gave any indication that anyone knew that the data was coming from live subjects or that Polis was the testing ground," Quinn explained.

"How do we keep that from biting us in the ass? Once they know that we had the information, couldn't they demand reparations or something," Clarke asked as she began to think about the situation.

"Offer to help," Quinn replied quickly. "We have better medical facilities and doctors at our disposal. Our people are better suited to finding a cure and distributing it."

"Would that be enough, though," Clarke asked, leaning back. "If these were our people, I'd not only want the cure but also help in stopping it from coming into our city. We've had this information for a few months, Quinn. Polis has been dealing with this for nearly a year."

Quinn sighed and leaned harder on her hands, "You're right, but it's not up to us to decide on the level of help we give. More than likely, we'll only be able to convince the council to deliver the information anonymously. The council will want to pretend that _Skaikru_ did not know."

"That's not right," Clarke cried out indignantly. "Polis has been suffering. People have been dying, Quinn. Families have been torn apart because of this drug. If we have the means and knowledge, we should be doing everything in our power to help them."

"I don't disagree with you, Clarke. But it's not up to us. It's up to the council. Some will want to keep our isolation and remain as uninvolved as possible. Others will see this as an opportunity to weaken _Trikru_. It may just be the two of us that want to do more than just passing the information on," Quinn tried to explain.

"What if," Clarke began to say but paused. "What if we told them that we owe them a debt for yesterday? Would that convince them to get involved?"

"Absolutely not," Quinn replied, shoving off the counter to glare at Clarke. "Under no circumstances can we let them know about the debt. They'll see it as a weakness and could challenge us for our positions. We're going to have a hard enough time arguing our legitimacy as it is. We can't give them any ammunition to use on us."

Clarke sighed dejectedly and ran a hand through her tangled hair, "Alright. God, why does this have to be so fucking complicated? We haven't even gone to the damn meeting, and I'm already getting a headache."

Quinn walked around and pulled Clarke into a side hug, "You could have remained blissfully ignorant, sis. You chose this."

Clarke groaned into Quinn's shoulder, "Don't remind me. I don't like this, Quinn. I'm afraid that the more we look into Dad's death, things will only get worse."

Quinn squeezed her shoulder in comfort and kissed the top of her head, "I know. I don't like this either. If I'm right that Dad's death wasn't an accident, things are going to become more dangerous. That's why I'm going to do everything I can to keep _our_ family safe, Clarke."

"_We_, Quinn. _We're_ going to do everything _we_ can to keep our family safe. You're not doing this alone," she argued, pulling away to look at Quinn sternly.

Quinn nodded in understanding, "Okay." She sighed and moved away from Clarke, "Let's get ready and head over to the house. Spend some time with Charlie before we need to get ready for the meeting tonight."

"Sounds good. I could use a distraction," Clarke replied as she picked up her plate and moved to the kitchen.

"Distractions are good," Quinn said as she started helping.

They quickly got the apartment back in order. After taking turns showering and dressing, they were soon down the stairs and in Clarke's car. As they drove to their parents' house, their silence led both to think about the meeting and the probable outcomes. Both hoping that it wouldn't be as bad as they thought, but neither believing that it wouldn't be without difficulties.


	16. Chapter 16

Turning down the familiar street that led to her parents' home, Clarke was drawn back to the countless memories of returning home. From school, football games, parties, college, free weekends from work. Coming home tired or drunk. Pulling into the drive with the sun barely peeking over treetops as it set or the moon somewhere along its descent. Stepping over the threshold to the noise of an excited child and smells of dinner. Or sneaking into a sleeping house and praying no one would wake and catch her.

Memories more recent danced through her mind of coming home on weekends. Charlie, no longer a child, home just long enough to greet Clarke before she was gone to be with friends. Her father smiling and greeting her warmly before pulling her into the kitchen and feeding her. Abby home occasionally and getting drawn into her studies and whatever medical journal one of them had been reading. Only when Quinn was home, did the family try to be there because her presence was rare.

Except Quinn was home, and not everyone else was. Not their dad. Their dad, who was the one constant in their life. That no matter how busy he was, he was never too busy for his girls. He was there for every bruise, event, broken heart, milestone. He was their mediator. A sea of calm in the middle of four incredibly stubborn women. He was their jokester. He could disrupt the tensest of moments with some cheesy line and broker an agreement between any of them. He was the glue that held them together. And now he was gone.

A sob broke through Clarke's carefully constructed armor, and the tears that had been running down her face were now clouding her vision. She had been so lost in her memories; she hadn't even realized that they had already arrived. She hadn't realized that she'd somehow driven them safely to their destination.

The sound of a seatbelt unclicking didn't register as Clarke began to sob uncontrollably. Nor the sound or feeling of her own being removed. But the moment she felt arms pull her sideways, she responded. She turned and buried her head in Quinn's neck as arms wrapped around her protectively. Comforting her as she finally let the last of her armor fall.

Quinn just held Clarke as close as the center console would allow. Whispering soothing words into Clarke's hair as Clarke let go. It felt like hours until the ache began to ease in Clarke's chest, and her sobs trickled down to hiccups and sniffles. Quinn's strong arms and warmth covered her like a blanket, shielding her from the world.

With one last sniffle, Clarke felt like she could talk as she whispered, "Thank you," against Quinn's chest.

A rumbling chuckle vibrated through Quinn and into Clarke as she responded, "You're welcome. Is this the first time you've let it out?"

Clarke nodded against her chest, and she felt it fill with air, and Quinn's exhaling slow on her head. Quinn squeezed tighter before pulling back to look at Clarke. Clarke could see the sadness she felt reflected in Quinn's eyes. The slight brightening of blue that showed unshed tears. Seeing them, Clarke knew that Quinn wouldn't let them fall. Not now. Not when she had to remain the strong one. Not when danger lurked in the shadows surrounding their father's death. Maybe when it was all over and done with. Perhaps that's when Quinn would finally let her armor fall and allow her grief free. Whenever it was, Clarke vowed to be there for her. To be her rock in the storm.

Quinn's voice drew her back to the present, and Clarke looked at her a little confused, "Huh?"

Quinn gave her an understanding smile and repeated herself, "I asked if you were ready to go inside. Charlie's been staring out of the curtains for the last ten minutes."

Clarke shook herself a little, pulling back until she was more firmly in the driver's seat, "How long have we been out here?"

Quinn shrugged, "Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes. It doesn't matter. What matters is you. If you need more time, we'll sit out here for as long as you need it. You want to be alone; I'll give you that too."

Clarke wiped at her face, cleared her throat, and shook her head, "No. No, I'm good. The memories just snuck up on me. All the times, I'd turn on the street heading here. Heading home."

Quinn sighed, leaned back in her seat, and looked out of the window, "Yeah. Dad was always _here._ He was always waiting. Ready to listen or admonish us. Our one constant in our busy lives. And now he's not."

"He's not," she sadly agreed but felt a new strength build. Determination filled her, and she said, "But we are. We're here. And we'll get through this like everything else. Together."

Quinn turned to look at her with a smirk, "You're right. We are here, and we will get through this. We are Griffins, after all. Some of the most stubborn bitches to ever walk this earth."

Clarke laughed, "Damn straight. Let's go inside."

"Alright," she replied and opened her door. She paused for a moment and looked at Clarke, "By the way, you're still an ugly crier."

Clarke scoffed and glared at the older blonde, "You look worse than I do when you cry."

"I don't cry," she retorted good-naturedly. "My eyes mist on occasion."

"Oh, whatever," Clarke snapped back as she stepped out of the car. "You may be some Navy badass, but you ball your eyes whenever you watch _Space Jam_."

Quinn glared at her over the car, "I do not!"

"Do too," she teased as she walked towards the house.

"Take it back," Quinn argued, following her.

"No," Clarke replied, throwing a smirk over her shoulder.

Quinn raised her hands like she wanted to choke Clarke and let out a loud groan. This only made Clarke laugh, and they continued to bicker back and forth into the house.

Charlie came out of the living room and looked at them, confusedly, "What are you two going on about now?"

"Oh, just that Quinn can't watch _Space Jam_ without crying," Clarke replied with an amused grin on her face.

"Oh, yeah, like a waterfall," Charlie agreed, smiling.

"What," Quinn cried out indignantly. "I so do not cry watching that movie!"

Clarke threw an arm around Charlie's shoulders and smirked at Quinn, "Admit it, sis. _Space Jam_ is your _Bambi_. You cry."

"Ugh, whatever," Quinn threw up her hands in surrender. "It's not fair when both of you gang up on me."

"Only because we're right," Clarke said, giving Charlie a quick hug before she released the younger girl. "I'm gonna go check on Mom and see if this paperwork will perk her up."

Quinn sighed, "I can't win. You up to a rematch on _Smash Bros_., Charlie?"

"Oh, I am gonna obliterate your ass, Q," Charlie replied gleefully. "I've been practicing."

"In your dreams, munchkin," Quinn said, throwing Charlie into a loose headlock and taking her into the living room. "You will never beat the master."

"Don't call me that," Charlie cried out, muffled by Quinn's body.

Clarke and Quinn laughed as they exchanged a significant look. Quinn's look was asking if Clarke was ready to hide the truth from their mother about the paperwork. Clarke returned a steady gaze and a slight nod. Quinn nodded back before focusing her attention again on distracting Charlie.

Clarke took a steadying breath, squared her shoulders, and began to ascend the stairs. She may not be able to disclose that she knew the truth about the drug and its origin, but she knew that the information from the hospital would be able to draw her mom out of her cocoon. At least, for a little while. And just maybe, in their own way, help Polis and _Trikru_ without getting involved directly. Clarke could only hope.


	17. Chapter 17

The day passed quickly for the Griffin women as they indulged themselves in distractions. Quinn and Charlie were passing the time with video games interspersed with a few heart to heart conversations. Clarke and Abby brainstorming ideas on possible treatments for the drug, now known as Red in Polis. Their only interruptions were when their friends would drop by, or hunger would strike.

Quinn would pull their friends into her father's study for quick updates and their roles within _Skaikru_. She was gaining a better understanding of what was going on and who she could fully trust within their circle of friends.

All the while, Clarke was observing Abby. Looking for signs that Abby recognized what was in the reports because even if Clarke was new to the game, she had learned long ago how to read her mother. She found herself analyzing every tic, sigh, and twitch Abby made while biting her tongue to keep from blurting out the truth. By the time lunch rolled around, Clarke was a nervous wreck and all but dragged Quinn into the back yard to vent.

"I can't do this, Quinn," Clarke cried out in exasperation as she began to pace the length of their yard.

Quinn watched Clarke pace as she leaned against an old picnic table, "Can't do what, C?"

"I can't keep silent," Clarke replied, looking at her. "I have had to bite my tongue so many goddamn times with her. I'm so focused on looking for any tell that I have no idea what we've brainstormed. But she just rambles off as if she has no clue. Like she has no idea that what she's looking at is the same information Dr. Tsing gave her."

Quinn frowned, "There's been nothing?"

Clarke shook her head in defeat, "I just…I don't get it. I can usually read Mom like a damn book, but I don't see any signs that she's lying. Or maybe," Clarke bit her lip in worry, "maybe she's been lying to me my whole damn life, and I just can't tell the difference. I mean, we've already established that Mom and Dad hid a whole world from us. Well, from Charlie and me anyway."

Quinn sighed, "Humans very rarely look beyond the surface, Clarke. We see what we want to see. Hear what we want to hear. Mom and Dad never gave you any reason to look beyond what was in front of you. Being the oldest, I wasn't given that. And now that you know the truth, it's only natural that you're second-guessing every word, interaction, and whatnot when you're with Mom."

Clarke stopped her pacing and came to sit on the picnic table next to Quinn, "Well, what have you seen?"

Quinn ran a hand through her hair and looked up to the sky in thought before looking back at Clarke, "I can tell she's hiding something. There's an air of guilt and nervousness about her. The grief is real. She loved Dad, and his death is hitting her hard. Mom's evasive, but even knowing some of the truth, it's too dangerous to push her for answers. We'll have a better leg to stand on after the meeting. But even then, we'll have to be careful."

"Why's that," Clarke asked.

Quinn sighed, which she was already getting tired of doing so much, "Once Mom finds out that I inducted you into _Skaikru_ and that you've replaced her on the council, she's going to go ballistic. Remember the first time I got arrested and how she went off on me?"

Clarke grimaced and fought down a shudder of fear, "Yeah. I thought she was about to ship you off to some military academy or religious boarding school."

Quinn nodded, "All because I vandalized that prick Johnson's car _after_ he tried to blame Murphy's dad for a botched drug deal. Anyway, once Mom finds out, it's going to be ten times worse."

"So, what do we do," Clarke sighed in defeat.

"We keep Mom in the dark for as long as possible," Quinn replied. "Take her phone and watch her. Make sure that we have someone watching the house. Keep everyone except Aunt Callie away."

"Aunt Callie's on the council, right," Clarke asked and Quinn nodded. "How do we keep her from telling Mom?"

Quinn bit the inside of her cheek, and then gustily sighed, "We tell Aunt Callie the truth. Tell her our suspicions about Mom and ask her to let us handle it."

"And you think Aunt Callie is just going to let us deal with it," Clarke asked in disbelief.

"Aunt Callie will see the merit in keeping Mom out of the loop," Quinn replied with a nod. "Mom's emotionally unstable, and if we let her know too soon, she may end up doing something that she can't undo."

"Alright," Clarke relented. "We'll do it your way for now. God knows that out of the two of us, you have way more experience with this shit than I do."

Quinn laid a comforting hand on Clarke's shoulder, "As unfortunate as that is, I'm glad that I've got you in my corner, sis."

"We have each other's backs, Quinn," Clarke replied. "Always have. Always will. Except when you're a complete and total ass. Then I'm going to laugh."

Quinn laughed, "I wouldn't expect anything less. Come on, let's go back inside. I've got time for one more round of _Mario Kart_ before I need to head back to change. I could use the help to dislodge the munchkin from her throne."

Clarke stood up, laughing, "Haven't you learned yet that going against Charlie in _Mario Kart_ is an act of futility?"

They started walking back inside as Quinn said, "Never. I will beat the little brat if it's the last thing I do. She's going down."

"Fifty bucks says she beats you three out of four races in any cup," Clarke challenged.

"You're on, C," Quinn quipped back. "I will reign supreme!"

"In your dreams, Old Woman," Charlotte yelled out of the living room.

Laughs erupted from the room, and Quinn darkly scowled, "I am not old!"

"Yeah, tell that to your joints," Jasper yelled out. "I can hear them popping from in here."

Quinn stepped into the room, glaring at the lanky young man, "I can still kick your ass into the emergency room, Goggle boy. Keep it up, and we'll find out if I can make you into a pretzel."

Jasper shrunk back in fear, and Clarke stepped between them, "Stop scaring the boy, Q. I don't want to clean the couch if he pisses or shits himself."

Quinn suddenly relaxed and pouted, "Will you stop ruining my fun, C. God, you are such a Mom."

"Maybe act your age, and I will," Clarke retorted, sitting next to Charlotte, and grabbing a controller.

"Where's the fun in that," Quinn replied, sitting on the opposite side of Charlotte. "Get prepared to give me your paycheck, Clarke. Munchkin here is going down."

"Oh, this is going to be good," Monty said, giving Jasper a mischievous smile. "Where's the popcorn when you need it?"

"Right here," Monroe said as she came into the living room with a huge bowl of popcorn. "This'll be better than watching toddlers paint for the first time."

The boys laughed, and the Griffin sisters all looked at each other.

"Did she just…" Clarke asked.

"I believe so," Charlotte replied.

"We should…" Quinn said, gesturing at the oblivious redhead.

"Yeah," Clarke replied.

The three sisters sat their controllers down on the coffee table and turned to face their three friends.

"Oh, Zoe," Quinn called in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Monroe looked up from the popcorn, "Yeah?"

Monroe watched in growing fear as all three Griffin sisters took on a look of pure evil and started to get off the couch.

"Run," Clarke ordered in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of Hell.

"Ffflllooaatt mmmeeee," Monroe yelled as she tossed the popcorn at the boys and bolted out of the living room and out the front door.

The three sisters immediately started laughing and high-fiving each other as the boys grasped their chests in fear.

"Now, _that_ was fun," Charlotte said as they returned to their game.

"Damn straight it was," Clarke said, shoving Charlotte with her shoulder. "Now, come on. I've got fifty bucks riding on you. Let's kick Quinn's ass."

"Hey," Quinn cried out, offended. "No teaming up."

Clarke and Charlotte shared a mischievous grin, "Sure, sure. No team-ups."

"Oh, float me," Quinn sighed. "I'm gonna get my ass creamed."

The girls just laughed, and the race started. Jasper and Monty are still sitting on the other couch, trying to get their hearts to slow down.

Jasper leaned over and whispered to Monty, "I think I need to change my pants."

"Don't move," Monty harshly whispered back. "I think they're channeling _Macbeth's_ Weird Sisters. Stay put if you want to live."

Jasper whined but stayed. The boys quietly ate the spilled popcorn while the sisters teased one another.

All the while, Monroe was still running down the street. Sure that the blonde hellions were still after her.


End file.
